Enchantment
by Angel LeeAnn
Summary: FINISHED! A little girl sees Marie's death. Yet, how can one stop destiny?
1. Prologue AND Murder and Lies

Title: Enchantment

Author: Angel LeeAnn

Rating: PG-13 borderline R

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize doesn't belong to me.

Summary: AU: Marie is tracking down a vicious killer: Wolverine.  Yet, what happens when he catches up with her first?

**WARNING**: Contains strong language and – later – sexuality

Prologue

The wolves howled as the gray fog settled over the crumbling tombstones of the decaying cemetery.  The dreary weather was fitting for such a gloomy and forlorn sight.  With the brown grass immersed in murky shadows from the hollow, spiny trees it was a scene worthy to be described in the nightmarish realm of one of Edgar Allen Poe's bleak vignettes.  More so was the dark form slouched over a gravesite, his head bowed against the slashing rain and resting against the crest of a headstone.

The marker was once elegant, but the years had eroded the rock.  It was a large rectangular block with a delicately carved angel laying a top, curled up in agony.  Her face was turned downward: as though her misery had overwhelmed her and stolen her soul.

"Forgive me," moaned the desolate man, wasting away to his knees into the mud that splashed up, spraying onto the collar of his dark trench coat.  He knew his visit was a foolish one, but the urge to return had been too great.  His guilt had raged at him until he could no longer deprive the ghost that haunted him.  "I am so sorry, Marie."  The torment was harsh; and his desire to cry was denied.  He was a man without tears.  To most, he didn't even exist.

The man, his paranoia crawling in, glanced around the abandoned cemetery.  He murmured, "Someday, I will return."  In one fluid motion, he whirled his body around, swiftly standing up and marched away into the night, his coat flapping behind him.

Chapter One

Murder and Lies

Part One

The swirling red and blue lights flickered across the decaying walls of the deserted warehouse.  To most civilians it was a representation of power, but to Marie D'Ancanto they were nauseating.  She squinted against the glare as she approached the door, cursing as her arm scarped along the side as she stepped in, splinters tearing into her pale flesh.  Her stormy bluish-green eyes scanned the dimly lit room, searching for the little prick that yanked her away from her mattress at two thirty in the morning.

"Cody, this better be good."  She marched over and stood, towering over a bulky man who was crouched down fingering a pile of dirt.  His thick, downy brown hair plastered to the back of his neck, slick with sweat.  "I have better things to do than be here."

"I doubt it," he mumbled, not glancing up at the irate woman.  Instead, he withdrew a little baggie from his pocket and used his gloved finger to scoop the dirt into the plastic bag.  "If you don't like it then tough: beat it and I don't ever want to see you around a crime scene again."  He slowly got up, not even grimacing at the crackling of his bones.  "Hey, Henderson," he called to another officer, "add this to the techie's list of shit to do."

Marie huffed, her arms tightening across her modest bosom.  "What the hell would be the point?  You'll come crawling back with a court order demanding that I help out.  And then I wouldn't even be getting paid."

"You're right.  So quit your bitchin'."

Marie's eyes glazed over with hatred.  "You're such an asshole, Cody."

Cody Robbins snarled.  "Watch it, Marie.  I could have you arrested for Mutant Insubordination."

Marie clenched her teeth, loathing the man before her.  Why, if he hated her so much, did he keep her around?  _Revenge_, she thought bitterly. _ He's never forgiven me for putting him in a damn coma.  Hell, I wish I'd killed him with that fucking kiss_.  "Go to Hell."

"Watch it, you mutant bitch."

"Cody, Marie," a voice boomed from somewhere deeper in the building.  "Can't we all just pretend to get along while working?"

"Sorry, John," Cody shouted backed.  "We didn't mean to upset your Mormon ears!"  With much difficulty he tugged off his surgical gloves – they had been out of the large so he'd been forced to wear small (medium didn't seem to exist) – and he shoved them into his back pocket.  "So who is it, Marie?"

She sighed, grinding her teeth.  "You know I can't tell without seeing the body.  Now I have to be at work in less than four hours.  You can quit screwing around and tell me what the hell's going on or I'm leaving."

"Homicide."

"No shit, Sherlock."  Marie's jaw tightened.  She only worked homicide cases.  "What tipped you off?  The dead body or all the blood?"

Cody ignored her sarcasm and led her into the heart of the warehouse.  "He's like the other ones."  He nodded to a coroner who then lifted off the tarp.  "Just look at him.  Probably minding his own business when one of you attacked him."

Marie peered down at the corpse, her body running ice cold.  The lifeless body was sprawled on his stomach on the floor, seemingly painted in his own dried blood.  Marie squatted, gingerly reaching out and clasping her chilled fingers around the corpse's stiff, frigid wrist, gazing transfixed at three puncture wounds.  "How long?"

The coroner shrugged.  "It's kind of hard to tell, especially considering all the blood loss."

"How long," she snapped, flashing her razor sharp eyes at him, daring him not to answer her.

The coroner tensed up.  "My best guess would be six hours," his tone was gruff and angry.  He didn't like it when people tried to rush explanations from him: that's how mistakes happened.  "Would you like to know what he last ate, too," he questioned snidely, prying the dead man's wrist from her grasp.

Marie ignored him, slowly rising, her eyes shifting across the room in search of any clues.  She sensed Cody hovering behind her, impatient.  "If you don't back off," she whispered, her voice hissing sourly, "I'm going to have to severely hurt you."

"I dare you to try it, Marie."

Marie whirled around and raised her hands.  "You think that kiss was bad, wait until I show you just how powerful I am."

"Who is it, Marie?"

"I don't know.  The victim's been dead too long for me to get any of his memories.  I've already told you, I can't suck someone's life source once stiffness sets in.  All the cells are dead by then.  However, it looks to me as if that man had been stabbed multiple times.  There's no reason to think a mutant did it."

"He was stabbed six times.  Just like the others.  Three on the arm and three on the chest…"

"That means shit and you know it."  Marie stalked away, fuming.

Part Two

The alcohol burned like acid, tearing away down her throat and roaring bitterly into her stomach.  Marie squeezed her eyes shut, liquid seeping from the corners of her eyelids and dancing smoothly down her pasty cheeks.  Her life flashed like snapshots across her mind and she bit down on her lower lip, blood seeping from the pierced skin and caressing down her chin.  She released a quivering breath.

Marie had seen too much, but – more heartbreakingly – she had experienced too much.  How could someone brutally slaughter another?  How could the normal despise the mutants so extremely?  Why were her own parents ashamed of her?

Her phone chirped to life, startling her out of her blue musings.  She set the bottle of whiskey aside and reached for her cellular.  "Hello?"

"Miss D'Ancanto?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry to disturb you at such a late hour."  From the sound of the man's tone it was obvious he didn't give a damn either way.  "My name's William Stryker.  We need to talk."

"About?"

"The murders."

Marie sat up, infuriated.  "Listen, Mr. Stryker, I don't give interviews.  As far as I'm concerned the press isn't good for anything except spreading classified material and gory details.  Not to mention you're vultures who enjoy feeding off the suffering of victims!"

Stryker chuckled.  "I like your spunk, Miss D'Ancanto.  I'm not a reporter."

"Then what the bloody hell do you want?"

"To speak to you.  I know the murderer."

Part Three

Marie pulled up in front of the city park, cutting off the engine to her Jeep Wrangler.  "This is ridiculous," she muttered to herself as she stepped out of the vehicle and trekked over to the park bench beside the Veterans' Memorial.  "I must be crazy," she reasoned as she plopped down on the damp bench.

A hand fell on her shoulder and she jumped back to her feet, whirling around.  An older man smiled tightly at her, the streetlight reflecting off his pallid skin.  "If you ever do that again," Marie warned, "I won't stop to kill you."

Stryker ignored her, instead came around the bench and took a seat.  "I know who you are, Marie.  Or, more accurately, what you are."

"You know nothing," she scoffed, eager to just walk away.

"I know more than you think."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she denied.  "And if you dragged me out here for this then I'm leaving."

"I advise against that."

Marie froze then, tensed up.  "Why did you contact me?  You told me you knew who the murderer was."

"I do.  He's a mutant.  His codename is Wolverine.  He's a vicious killer, as I'm sure you're well aware of.  Just look at his victims.  Now we can't have a killer like him on the loose.  He needs to be brought in."

"How do you know this?"

"I used to work with him."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"I want him alive.  Those cops you work for, they want him dead."

"Why should I help you?  If he's as dangerous as you say then maybe it would be best if he were killed."

"No!  No, he's too valuable.  If you work for me I'll make it worthwhile."

Marie knitted her eyebrows in suspicion.  "Why the hell would I want to?"

"I'll see to it that your name is taken off the Mutant Registration.  You'll be free.  And have power.  I'll put you in command of the recovery mission.  The only person you'll have to take orders from is me."

"And once he's caught?"

Stryker's smile was malicious.  "You can choose to stay with us.  Or…you can return to this…_marvelous_ life."  The word "marvelous" was laced with sarcasm.

Marie bit her lower lip, peering down at her feet before staring him dead in the eye.  "Deal."

End Chapter One   


	2. By the Light of the Moon

Chapter Two

By the Light of the Moon

Shadows chased each other across the walls as cars passed by.  The night was bitter, bringing along with it a mask of fog and mist.  Marie pulled her Indian-patterned fleece blanket more snugly around her tiny frame as she curled into a tight ball.  She watched the circus display on her white walls waiting for fatigue to sweep through.

She had been working for Stryker for two months now and she was beginning to have her doubts about the quality of his character.  On the outer shell he was an aged, sullen, and determined General.  He was courtesy with her, but there was always an underlining of distrust and malevolent resolve.  His goal was to find Wolverine and if you fell behind or showed doubt to his cause then, you could kiss your job – and possibly your life – goodbye.  

Her eyes fluttered closed and she could sense herself slipping into the wonderful world of imagination.  Then, she felt a pressure on her mouth and was torn away from the dreamland to discover a hand clasped over her mouth.  The owner of the hand bent down and whispered gruffly, "Squirm or scream and I'll slit your throat."

She released the shield around her power and instantly felt her intruder's life force drain into her.  She gasped as his powers, memories, and personality surged through her like a jolt of lightening.  She struggled, shoving him off with a fury of force that didn't belong to her.  He stumbled back, weakened, and slowly sank to his knees, his hazel eyes panged and bright with shock.

Marie hastily scurried off the bed, her eyes wide.  Shook up, she hesitantly approached her attacker, quivering as he assaulted her mind.  She gaped at his convulsing form, studying his brown hair, sideburns, and brood body.  "Wolverine," she murmured and then raced towards her phone.

"Don't," came a strangled cry.

Marie, phone clenched in her trembling hand, peered down at him.  "Why the Hell not?  You just tried to kill me!"  She began punching the familiar numbers to Stryker's cell phone.

"Please," he whizzed, battling with his weak body to get up.  "I…wa'n't gon-na hurt…you."  He shook his head as though trying to shake off the pain.  "Please, Marie, wait."

"You – you know my name?"  Marie clicked off her phone, but held it tightly to her chest as though the plastic could protect her if he tried anything.  When she had joined forces with Stryker, he had eliminated her identity.  Marie D'Ancanto no longer existed anywhere except in the memories of those she had left behind.  She was known only by her codename: Rogue.  "Why are you here?"

Wolverine clumsily gathered himself up, swaying uneasily on his feet like corn in a fall breeze.  "Why are you after me?"

Marie laughed nervously, pointing the phone at him, the antenna aimed directly between his eyes.  "Oh no, Wolverine.  You damn well no why I'm after you or otherwise you wouldn't be here."  She circled around him so that her back was to her door, blocking him and at the same time providing herself an escape.  "You're a bloodthirsty killer," she went on crossly; disdain dripping from her words.  "I've seen what you do to your victims.  And I won't be one of them."

"You've been fed lies, Marie."

Her instant and justified reaction was to dismiss him off hand, but something about the way his eyes gazed at her gave her a sliver of doubt.  Yet, she rebuked it, denying the twinge of skepticism that tingled at the base of her spine.  "You're a cold blooded killer.  Why the hell should I believe you?"

"There are things you don't understand, Marie.  There are things you couldn't possibly know because Stryker would never allow you to."

Her interest was peaked.  She'd never fully trusted her boss.  "Like what?"

"Experiments.  On mutants."

"And how would you know this?"

"We used to work together.  I know lots of things."

"Have you ever actually seen any experiments preformed?"

"No," he answered harshly, and too quickly.  "Not really."

Marie eyed him, scanning him once more.  Now that he was standing she had a better view of him.  He wasn't exactly tall, but he definitely towered over her.  His hair was cut in an odd style: in the dimly lit room, it looked almost like ears of an animal.  She scrutinized his face, finding that he was handsome in a rough and roguish way; kind of reminded her of a cowboy biker – minus the hat.  Her eyes traveled down to his hands.  They were large and strong, but she had a strange sense that the deadly weapons were – when needed to be – gentle.

Her gaze finally returned to his and her breath caught in her throat as their eyes locked.  She searched his mysterious, murky orbs and found that they were indeed the windows to his soul.  "You were one," she murmured, the phone sliding from her hand and crashing to the hardwood floor.

She closed her eyes, hunting him out.  The Wolverine in her was standing forlornly in a vast and dark field.  She felt his agony, torment, rage, and utter abhorrence.  However, somewhere buried was a glimmer of light.  "Love," she whispered inaudibly, opening her eyes.  Who did he feel this hidden love for?

He was silently watching her and she gave a ghost of a smile.  "Can I call you Logan?"

He jerked.  "How…"

Marie tapped her right temple.  "You're up here, sugar.  When you grabbed me, I stole your life force.  That's why you felt so weak."  She inched towards him, cautious of his every move.  "I like Logan.  It suits you better."

"Call me what you like, kid."

Marie laughed and it was sweet and unguarded.  "Kid?  Logan, sugar, I'm twenty-five.  I ain't no damn kid, bub."  She covered her mouth with her hand.  "Damn, sugar, with you in my head I ain't gonna be speaking like myself for awhile."

Logan shifted his weight, looking at her strangely.  "You actually have me…" he pointed to her head "…up there?"

"Yeah.  I do.  I'll always carry a part of you, but soon I'll be completely me."

"So…you have…my memories?"

"Yeah, but I won't tap into them.  It ain't any of my damn business."

He nodded, accepting her answer.  "You've got quite a control over your power."

"It took me years.  And I still struggle with it at times."  She giggled uncomfortably, recalling the time she had been making out with her former fiancé, Bobby Drake.  Her shield had come crashing down and Bobby had got the shock of his life.

"He'll be after you."

Marie snapped her attention back to the man before her.  "No he won't.  Stryker won't have a reason to."

"What?  Are you going to turn me in?"

"I…" she licked her lips, confused and conflicted.  "No.  No, I couldn't turn an innocent man in: especially not a mutant.  Us freaks have to stick together," she said snidely, the word "freaks" tasting gritty and sour in her mouth.

"You where in the Brotherhood," he stated.

"Look, Logan, I would love to divulge all the gory details of my life, but it's two in the morning and I'm standing here in my nightgown."

"You're right.  Get dressed.  We can't stay here anyway."

Marie held up her hands as though to fend him off.  "Whoa, buddy, what's this "we" stuff?"

"I've told you, Marie.  They're going to want you dead."

"Why?  They don't even know you're here!"

Logan sighed, annoyed and impatient.  "They'll probably be here any second.  We've wasted enough time.  You have two choices: come with me or stay here to wait for them."

"But…"

"Look, Marie, do you honestly think this place isn't bugged?"

She froze, snakes slithering up her spine.  "My God," she muttered.

A bang from the downstairs jolted her and the color drained from her face as she realized it was the sound of her door bursting apart.  Logan grabbed one of her scarves off the dresser and then snatched her wrist, the silky cloth the only barrier between them.  He dragged her out of the room just as three men came crashing through her bay window, glass shattering and raining all over the room.

"So what do you say," Logan barked as he dragged her to the bathroom.  "Are you with me or them?"

"You!"

Logan hoisted her up with ease and shoved her out of the already open window.  She grabbed onto the pipe and slid down, landing in the professionally tripped bushes below.  Logan was immediately at her side, the scarf still clenched in his fist.  He yanked her to her feet and raced them across the backyards of her neighbors.  Marie tripped, unable to keep up.  Logan's arm snapped back at her sudden dead weight.  Without breaking his stride, he flung her around and up into his arms.

Marie, her face pressed into his neck, had a revelation.  The moonlight cascading a milky ray of light over his hard face, her lips centimeters from the pulsing veins of his neck, her sweat mingling with his, she abandoned any lingering doubt.  She trusted him.  And she would follow him anywhere.

And he was pretty damn sexy.

End Chapter Two    


	3. Cold Heart

**Blix**: Thank you for both reviews.  Chapter One: I've always thought that since she can absorb people's memories she would make an excellent detective.  And, yet, I knew she would never be one by choice.  Chapter Two: I'm so glad you approve.  I always look forward to your reviews.

Chapter Three

Cold Heart

The wind, like fingers, brushed through her auburn hair, swirling the strands in the brisk air.  Pressed to Logan's back, her arms securely embracing his waist, Marie wondered how her life had come to this: herself, a motorcycle, a mysterious man, and a death warrant hanging over her.  She had nothing else.  Not even shoes.  

Logan, however, had gruffly handed his worn leather jacket to her, mumbling, "Here.  Can't bring back a Popsicle."  Then climbed onto his bike, grumbling what sounded like nonsense under his breath.

She wore it now, inhaling the scent of leather and smoke.

They roared down a long, winding, and deserted road.  The sky was pinkish with the first light of dawn and the peachy-red rays grazed like soft kisses along Wolverine's face.  Rogue leaned as far as she dared, gazing at his intense features and noticing that he was much more handsome than she had originally given him credit for.  She jumped when his piercing dark eyes flicked down and over at her.  Marie swallowed and slowly disappeared fully back behind him and gingerly laid her head against his red flannel shirt, the fabric soft against her cheek.

She allowed her eyes to drift shut.

~ ~ ~

_"Don't worry, Marie.  I'll be back in two days.  I won't be late.  I promise."  Bobby leaned down, placing a chaste, but sweet kiss on the tip of her nose.  "Nothing in the world could stop me."_

_Marie sighed, peering down at the floor.  "But, Bobby, our wedding is in _four_ days."  She glared up at him, fuming with righteous anger.  "You can't leave now!  This is a bunch of bullshit.  You tell your boss that if he makes you go to this conference then he'll have _me_ to deal with!  And I won't let him…"_

_"Marie, Marie."  Bobby rubbed her arm soothingly, gazing at her, searching for much needed understanding.  "I don't want to go, but I have to.  Please, honey, don't worry.  I'll be back.  Nothing will keep me from marrying you, Marie.  Nothing."_

~ ~ ~

She jerked awake as Logan dismounted the bike.  She had only been out for a couple minutes, which led her to believe that she had more likely been daydreaming than actually sleeping.  

She lowered herself off the motorcycle, scanning the vast mansion before her.  It was the largest building she'd ever seen.  It was made of stone, reminding her of the castles she had seen in her travel books.  The landscape was beautiful, adorned with perfectly cut shrubbery, lavish flowers, and ivy that scaled up the side of the mansion. 

"You just going to stand there gawking or are you going to come in," Wolverine glowered, coming up behind her.  He nudged her, pressing her to move it.

Marie was about to scold him when he suddenly gripped her arm, halting her.  He reached a hand under the jacket.

"Hey," Marie shrieked, shoving him away.  "Just because you lent me your coat doesn't mean I'm going to let you…"

"Settle down, woman.  I ain't interested in you."  He withdrew his hand, a pack of cigars and a lighter clenched in his fist.  He eyed her, the muscles in his face tight.  Without another word, he trudged off.

Marie huffed and then raced to catch up.  She followed him begrudgingly into the spacious foyer, awed by the large, mahogany staircase.  "Where are we," she breathed, taking in the handsome woodwork, intricate carved designs, and breathtaking paintings.  "Should I go buy a ball gown?"

Logan snorted, inhaling a large dose of smoke into his lungs.

"You're back," a woman exclaimed from above them.

Marie peered up to see a redhead leaning against the second floor's railing.  She watched as the older woman gracefully descended the steps, her smile growing with each stride.  The redhead was dressed in a classy crimson blouse and tight, hip-hugger, tan khakis.  Marie softly cleared her throat, pulling the labels of the jacket tighter around her self.  She felt intensely self-conscious standing in her black satin negligee and Logan's jacket, which was twice her size.

"Miss me, Jean," Logan teased charmingly, a grin splashing across his face causing his eyes to twinkle.

Marie glanced from Logan and the woman, feeling like a forgotten third wheel.  Or, worse yet, a third wheel not even on the same planet.

Jean's cheeks sparked a light shade of red and she ducked her head bashfully to the side.  "Mmm, don't you wish."  

Marie felt annoyed and sickened. She glanced away, her gaze falling on a handsome, but stiff man by the door.  He was dressed too preppy for her liking, but his red sunglasses helped displace the "all-American boy" look.  She watched, amused, as the other man entered the foyer, his jaw clenched.  "Logan," he said in a way of icy greeting.

Logan, smirking, nodded at the other man.  "Scott, have you missed me, too?"

Scott huffed as if impatient and then his ruby shades turned to Marie.  "You must be Rogue."

Marie shrugged.  "Must be."

Jean, for the first time, looked her way.  She scanned Marie's attire.  "I'm sorry, you must be cold.  Come with me.  I'll let you borrow something of mine."

Marie's head snapped wide-eyed at Logan, searching for answers.  He nodded, pulling the cigar out of his mouth and pointing it towards Jean.  "Go ahead, Rogue.  You'll be fine."

"But…I…" she felt butterflies erupt in her stomach and the tingling of an anxiety attack creeping up on her.  Like hell she was going to just blindly be led by a stranger, away from the only person in the world she even remotely trusted.  "Where are you going to be?"

"Around.  Listen, kid, I ain't your damn babysitter.  Jean here will find you some clothes.  Unless you want to walk around in your p.j.'s."

Marie, infuriated, feeling betrayed by the man who had seemed so sincere in her bedroom, snapped.  "Maybe I'll just head straight back to Stryker and tell him where the hell you've been staying!  I'm sure he would love to hear all about this enlightening journey that I've gone on at the butt crack of dawn!"

"Look," Wolverine barked.  "Jean just wants to get you some clothes.  What the hell is this third degree shit about?  It's not like I owe you anything!"

"Fuck you," Marie hissed, whipping around and stalking towards the doors.  "This is all bullshit anyway!"

Wolverine growled and swiftly marched around her, blocking her exit and abruptly extracting his claws.  "Hold it, Rogue!"

Her eyes widened at the sight of his metal claws, staring horrified at the fatal weapons.  Her gaze slowly rose to meet his and she murmured, "You going to kill me?"

Logan released a heavy sigh, gradually retracting his razors.  "No."

"I don't want to be here.  Please," she pleaded.  "Let me go."

"Rogue," Scott said, gingerly approaching from behind her.  "It's not safe out there.  Stryker knows you left with Logan."

"I could tell him I was forced to."

"And then what?  Tell him where he is?"

Marie fought back her tears of frustration.  "Why not?  Wolverine here is a cold-blooded killer.  I've seen his victims.  He has no pity," she accused, her eyes hardening like stone as she continued to stare at Logan.  "A charcoaled heart if any.  I bet he would slice his own mother's heart out if…"

"_Enough_," Wolverine roared.  "You don't know anything, kid.  There's a war going on right under your nose and Stryker is the enemy.  I saved you from him!"

"By placing me on his hit list!  Yeah, thanks, wolfie, but no thanks!  I was just fine with my life as it was.  You've screwed it up."

"Fine," Wolverine barked.  "Go back to Stryker.  Tell him I say hi."  He stormed off, shouting over his shoulder: "And don't you ever call me 'wolfie' again!"

End Chapter Three


	4. Caged Freedom

**Blix**:  That or I'm just good at mystery.  snorts  Nope, must be that you're slow.  Lol.  I'm only teasing.  

**Snoob**:  Thank you for both reviews.  Chp1: I thought so myself.  smiles  Chp2:  You could ask for them to eventually get together.  Lol.  Then again, obviously they will:  **I** am writing this – I wouldn't have it any other way.  Lol.

**Anonymous**:  Lol.  Thanks for the boost.  I'll try and keep chapters running smoothly.

**Star-of-Chaos**:  Can I call you **Star**?  Anyway, thanks a million.  Reviews keep me going!

Chapter Four

Caged Freedom

She paced the length of her room, feeling caged inside the spacious, airy bedroom of the west wing.  She unconsciously wrung her hands together, her skin scarlet from her constant rubbing.  She was going crazy being cooped up and, yet, there were no barriers between her and escape, save for the unlocked door.  Despite this, she wasn't able to bring herself to leave her own makeshift prison.  She didn't want to wander the unfamiliar halls swarming with the dozens and dozens of students.  She didn't want to be ensnared into talking with the teachers.  And she definitely didn't want to run into Wolverine.

She snarled at the thought of his name.  Damn him and his sweet talk.  Damn him and his convincing.  Just damn him for dragging her away from the little security she had to only ditch her as promptly as possible – at a drop of a hat: as if she were merely a pebble in his boot.

She huffed, her eye twitching from the rage and stress the man had bestowed on her.  Grumbling, she finally found the urge to battle it out with someone – anyone.  She marched out of her room, slamming the heavy oak door shut harshly behind her.  A student scurried past, looking startled.  Marie ignored the young girl, not even bothering to wander why the child was in the teachers' chambers section.

Marie stormed down the hallway and stomped down one of the many staircases, not sure where it was leading her.  To her astonishment – and partial delight – she ended up at the entrance to the kitchen.  Her stomach growled at her, reminding her that she hadn't eaten since dinner the previous night.

Marie burst into the room, her hair brushed back by the wind caused by the door flying open.  Her delight, however, was short lived – snuffed out at the sight of a man hunched over the island cradling a glass bottle in his hands.  She clenched her jaw and sighed angrily, about to march out.

"You've got an issue with standing around?"

Marie glared at him, her green eyes turning into a sharp shade of jagged emeralds.  "You got an issue with being an asshole?"

Logan smiled smugly at her, his eyes dancing with a bemused snicker.  "Careful, kid, or I may just have to make you my next victim."

Marie stepped closer in fury.  "What the hell is your problem?  In case you've forgotten, _you_ dragged _me_ here.  I didn't ask to come to this freaking mansion.  So?  What?  Did I wrong you in another life or something?"

Logan chuckled.  "Listen, kid, I've got nothing against you except for the fact that you were working for Stryker – looking for me."

"God, you are so infuriating.  I wish I were still working for him.  At least then I had authority…money…freedom!"  Marie spun around, yanking open the fridge roughly, the door snapping back against its hinges.  Finding nothing of interest, she slammed it shut, whirling around to glare at Logan.  "Why the hell did you bring me here, Wolverine?  Why did you even come to my house last night?"

He shrugged as if he had no care in the world.  "It was a mission.  Professor Xavier thought it would be best."

"Professor Xavier?  You mean Professor _Charles_ Xavier?"

Logan's eyes narrowed suspiciously, his body growing tense.  "Yeah, why?"

Marie screamed in ferocity and then flashed her razor eyes at him.  "Fuck you!  Fuck you!"  She wrapped her arms around her stomach, feeling sick – panged by the stunning, agonizing truth.  "No," she wailed.  "No, no, no…" shaking, she sank to the floor.

Pair of strong arms was suddenly embracing her, hauling her back to her wobbly legs, but she was unable to stand.  She found herself being held up by him, slouched against his chest.  Heaving from her sobs, she meekly punched at him, her blows slowly growing more and more forceful as she began screeching.

Logan held on tight, confused and concerned.  The woman in his arms – just a moment ago so vibrant – was now a crumbled mess.  She reminded him of a porcelain doll – beautiful and hard, but when broken…

He stroked her hair, his fingers entangling in her silky auburn strands.  "Shh, Marie."

She shoved away from him; her face stained with salty tears but as frigid as ice.  "You can tell Xavier to fuck off.  I'm out of here."  She whipped around and fled from the kitchen.

Logan raced after her, grabbing her wrist and twirling her around so abruptly that her tiny frame collided into him.  "What's going on here, Marie?"

"It all makes sense now," she spat bitterly, her tears forgotten.  "I was brought here because of Bobby."

"Bobby?  You mean Bobby Drake?"

"Yeah," she laughed bitterly.  "Bobby Drake – my fiancé."

"What," Logan gasped.

"He told me he worked for a Professor Charles Xavier.  But he led me to believe that Xavier was a crippled teacher-scientist.  And Bobby was his apprentice or whatever.  The damn bastard lied to me!

"He told me he was going to a conference.  Ha!  A conference my ass!  Then two days before our wedding, I got a call.  Bobby was dead.  I was told it was an airplane crash – they never found his remains.  But I bet you his body was brought back here.  Am I right?"

Logan shifted uncomfortably, his eyes softening.  "Marie…I…I had no idea.  I'm so sorry."

"I don't want your damn pity!  I want the truth!  Was Bobby brought back here?"

"Yes."

"How did he die," she whispered.

Logan closed his eyes, recalling the brutal images of Iceman's gruesome death.  "He was killed by…they wanted information.  He wouldn't give it.  They burned him…and then skinned him."

Marie choked back the lump in her throat.  "Who did?"

"Stryker's men."

Marie bent over and vomited up the sour acid from her stomach.

End Chapter Four


	5. The Outsiders

**Star-of-Chaos**:  Since you signed your review Chaos, then that's what I'll call you from now on.  Abbreviating names makes things so much easier for me.  Anyway, yeah, Stryker's a bastard.  Lol.

**Blix**:  Well I guess people will have to pay up.  He will be paying for it later.  evil smirk

Chapter Five

The Outsiders

Cheeks burning, Marie reluctantly allowed Logan to scoop her up into his muscular arms and carry her trembling body into one of the dens where he gently laid her onto a beige leather loveseat.  Kneeling, he brushed the loose strands of hair away from her face, peering down at her with unhidden concern.  "Are you all right, kid?"

"Marie," she insisted, mumbling.  "My name's Marie."  She sniffed, grimacing at the bitter, gritty taste in her mouth that filtered down her throat.  She couldn't believe she'd thrown up – spewing all over the floor…and down Logan's pants.  She winced at his stained jeans, feeling utterly embarrassed.  "I'm sorry…about your jeans, I mean.  And…well…about throwing up at all.  I haven't gotten sick since I was a little kid."

He waved her off.  "I don't appreciate the smell, but it's ok.  You'll just have to buy me a new pair."  He grinned, the gesture softening his stiff features.

Marie smiled thinly in return, staring at his mouth, amazed that a face of stone could melt into something so charming and lustful.

"Is she all right?"

Marie's eyes whipped away from Logan's sensual lips and towards the doorway.  A tall, African American woman stood poised, her white hair contrasting with her dark skin; and, yet, complimenting her features elegantly.

Logan's grin instantly disappeared, the moment lost in a sea of Marie's fondest memories.  "Yeah, she'll be fine.  Is someone cleaning up the mess?"

"Yes."  The woman ambled closer, her warm, brown eyes laced with concern.  "My name's Ororo Munroe.  You can call me Storm."

Marie immediately liked the other woman.  At least being near Logan wasn't making her trip over her tongue.   "I'm Rogue."

Storm smiled.  "I know.  I'm glad you're all right."  She looked to Logan, a wall flying up and shielding her emotions.  "The professor wants to speak with you."

"I know," he replied, his eyes rolling skyward, indicating his head.  "I got the message."

Storm nodded and then silently left, floating away like a soft breeze.

Marie swung her legs off the cushion, planting them firmly on the hardwood floor.  "Thanks, but I'm fine now.  It's not like you're my babysitter or that you owe me anything," she said, casually tossing his earlier words back into his face.

Logan growled, standing up sternly.  "Damn straight, _Marie_."  He marched from the room.

Marie rose up off the sofa and jolted when Wolverine came bursting back into the room.  His usual angry scowl was painted on his face.  "He wants to see you, too."

"How'd you…"

Logan snorted.  "You'll see.  Let's go."  He marched from the room, not waiting for her to catch up.

"Man, do you have PMS or what," Marie mumbled, trudging after him.

"You want me to kick your ass," Logan barked back at her.

Marie paused, calling out to him: "How'd you…right.  I forgot."  She sped-walked, struggling to catch up with him.  "Stryker told me you had sensitive hearing and a keen sense of smell.  Not to mention your impressive ability to heal yourself.  It's a shame really.  I was hoping to murder you in your sleep."

Logan chuckled despite himself.  This woman was seeking a death warrant by constantly berating and provoking him, dancing on his nerves waiting bravely for his itching finger to pull the trigger.  She had guts.  Strangely – and irritatingly – he found that arousing.  "Not if I get to you first," he replied gruffly.

Marie released a puff of air that swayed the hairs around her face.  "I don't doubt it.  You're holding me accountable for a crime I didn't know I was committing.  In case you've forgotten, I believed you were a heartless killer with fatal claws that you all-too-happily used to slice people to death."

Logan clenched his teeth, all traces of his friendlier side vanishing under a mask of ice.  Marie swallowed, her fears tingling at the base of her skull.  He frightened her when he looked that way.  It was times like these that she doubted her choice to run away with him.

Logan rushed into a room, not bothering to hold the door open for her.  Marie, scowling, trailed in behind him.  It was obvious he hadn't grown up in the South.

"Hello, Marie.  Or do you prefer Rogue?"

A gentle older man sat behind a large mahogany desk, the lights reflecting off his baldhead.  Marie squinted suspiciously.  "It's Rogue.  You must be Charles Xavier," she sneered.

He nodded mutely, his eyes a sea of sadness and regrets.  "My condolences to you.  I am terribly sorry about Bobby.  He truly was one of my finest students and a wonderful leader and example to…"

"Shut up.  Just shut up.  I know you didn't mean for him to die, but _he did_.  And it was because _you_ sent him to a "conference"."  Marie crossed her arms firmly across her chest, peeved at everything: even the ballpoint pen laying on the edge of the desk, threatening to fall.  "How could you do it?  Send him on some bullshit errand four days before his – _our_ – wedding?  I sure hope his death was worth it to you."

"Rogue, you are a brilliant young woman.  I am sure by now you have figured out that it was not a conference or a simple errand."  Xavier sighed, glancing to Logan.  "Logan has told you how he died, but not the reason for it.  This school…it is a place of learning, but also a place of accepting who you are.  Most of my students go on to achieve recognition in their chosen careers.  However, a select few remain here to teach…and to fight."

"Fight?  Fight what?"

"Men like Stryker.  Other mutants who wish to disrupt our society: mutants like the Brotherhood.  We here are a small group of talented and strong men and women who want to live peacefully with humans and mutants alike."

The double doors swung open and a handful of people stepped into the room, most of whom Marie had already met.

"Rogue, I believe you have met Scott Summers, also known as Cyclops.  Jean Summers is the woman who lent you her clothes."

Marie raised her eyebrows.  If the two were married, then what was with the thick dosage of flirting she'd witnessed earlier between Jean and Logan?

Xavier went on.  "You have also met Ororo Monroe.  Or, Storm, as she is called."  He wheeled closer.  "And these are…"

A tall man in a trench coat gave an exaggerated bow.  "Gambit's pleased to meet you, _ma chere_."  He grinned mischievously at her and his red eyes took her back.  She found them strangely beautiful.

A large blue creature standing behind Gambit nodded at her.  "I am Doctor Hank "Beast" McCoy.  You may call me whatever you wish."

Marie scanned the six faces before her before turning to the seventh – Xavier.  "So what was Bobby called?"

"Iceman," Logan answered for the professor.  "Though some of us preferred Ice Cube or Snowflake."

Marie glared at him, not amused.  "You mean _you_ preferred to call him that."  She looked back to the fatherly man in the wheelchair.  "So what are you people?  Some sort of a private army or something?"

Xavier grinned a small, proud grin.  "We are the outsiders in a world of hate.  Most know us as the X-men."

Marie gasped, her heart thudding wildly in her chest.  "Bobby was an X-man?  Holy shit."  She lowered herself onto one of the couches, shaking her head in disbelief.  "Not that it should surprise me considering everything else I've seen and learned here, but…wow.  Why didn't he ever tell me?"

"He felt it was best," Jean answered gently.  "He didn't want to mix this life with the one he had with you.  We didn't even know much about you until a couple weeks before your wedding date."

Marie bit her lip, fighting back her tears.  "This is…God, what am I supposed to do now?"

"You can stay with us," Xavier offered kindly.

"You mean become one of you?  An X-man?"

"Only if that's what you want."

Marie shook her head.  "I don't know."

"Come on, _chere_," Gambit urged.  "We need a another pretty face around here."

Marie looked to Logan, hunting for a clue as to where he stood in the conflicting choice.  Did he want her to stay?  Probably not.  He'd hated her since…God, probably since he'd heard about her.  With that thought in mind, she answered:  "I'll stay."

End Chapter Five


	6. Conflictions

**Chaos**:  I'm glad you'll live.  Otherwise, I would feel pretty guilty about killing you.

**Blix**:  Of course!  I couldn't write it if there weren't going to be plenty of conflicts and tension.  Lol.

**Snoob**:  It was a hard decision, but killing Bobby was a must.  shakes head sadly

**Pineapple1**:  Do you mind if I abbreviate your name to **Pine**?  Anyway, thank you so much for reading my stories.  And go ahead and read what I wrote to **Snoob** because it applies to you, too.

**Anonymous**:  Thank you so much.  And I don't plan on leaving it hanging because I hate it when authors do that, too.

**WantingDreams**:  I'm glad you were able to bypass the technical difficulties.  And I'm glad that you even bothered to keep trying.  Thank you so much for both reviews.

**Hippie-Banana**:  Trust me, I plan for M/L too go at it a few more times.  Lol.  I just love tension.  I feed off of it everyday.

**Angel**:  Believe you me I am a Rogue/Wolverine fanatic.  If they don't get together, then they won't be getting together with anyone.

Chapter Six

Conflictions

The night air was at the perfect amount of chillness, clearing the mind of the day's torrent events, but not brisk enough to wear anything thicker than a sweater.  Marie was huddled on a patio chair, curled up with her feet planted firmly on the seat.  She had spent the morning going over mental exercises with Xavier; the afternoon brought her slaving in the courtyard running laps; and the evening was filled with tedious lessons with Scott over the fundamentals of mechanics.

Tomorrow she began her martial arts training with Wolverine.

Marie groaned at the depressing thought of spending hours with that brute of a man, having to follow his orders without complaint.  The X-man hated her and she knew his dislike would only mean bruised flesh, sore muscles, and sprained bones.  He wasn't going to go easy on her.

"Mm, _le bon soir, ma chere_," the Cajun spoke with his usual air of charm as he sauntered toward her, his red-black eyes playful.

"Do I even want to know what you said," Marie sighed, irritated with his ruthless toying.  It had been somewhat flattering at first, but in the short three days that she'd been at the school, she'd quickly come to learn that Gambit was a hopeless flirter with all the females over the age of seventeen.

"Gambit said 'good evening, my dear one'.  All in good taste, _non_?"

"Sure.  Whatever."

"_Chere_ feeling _triste_ tonight?"

Marie growled in her throat.  "Remy, how many times must I tell you that I don't know French or Cajun or whatever the hell you speak."

Gambit grinned his natural charismatic, debonair grin.  "Gambit asked if you were feeling down…blue…sad…Now Gambit knows you are just grouchy _ce soir_ – sorry, Gambit meant _this evening_."

"Remy," she sighed.  "Don't you have someone else to chase after tonight?  I swear I saw Jubilee, Kitty, and Storm in the library earlier."

"Storm is off the market."

"What?  With whom?"

"Kurt Wagner.  You know, Knightcrawler."

"I haven't met him, yet.  What's his curse?"

"Curse?  _Chere_, our powers are no curses.  They are gifts."

"Whatever.  What's his?"

"Transporter."

Marie nodded, murmuring an "mmm".  "So, where has this Knightcrawler been?"

"Germany.  Doing some – er – spiritual journey?"

Marie shrugged, not truly caring about the mysterious man she had yet to meet.  It was hard to be interested in someone's life when you haven't ever even seen him or her.

"Oh, Gambit's got to go.  Forgot I had a date.  Catch you later, _chere_."

Marie welcomed the peace.  She had nothing personal over the Cajun, but at the moment she wanted to bask in the stillness that only solitude could offer.  She needed time to sort through her life.  Did she really want to stay here and train to be an X-man?  Was chasing bad guys really more glamorous than the position she had working for Stryker?

_That's buried in the dust now_, she reminded herself.  _I can't go back to that life.  And if I leave here then I may not have a life at all_.  _Damn Wolverine for coming for me_.

Marie extracted herself from her weaved seat, wincing as she stretched; the rippling of cracking joints reminded her that she had sat prone too long in the cramped chair.

She made her way slowly to the kitchen, thankful that the students were in their dorms for the night.  Most likely more than the majority was still awake, gossiping in hushed whispers.  Yet, as long as they stayed tucked away in their rooms then she didn't care if they were throwing wild parties.

Marie bristled when she stepped into the well-lit kitchen, her emerald eyes falling on the man sitting once again at the island, slouched over a bowl of Rocky Road ice cream.  "Don't you ever sleep," she inquired, annoyance seeping into her tone.

"I could ask the same of you," Logan replied sarcastically, digging into his midnight snack.

Marie made an angry show of getting her own ice cream.  When finished, she slammed the ceramic bowl onto the counter, the spoon flying out of the bowl and clattering loudly against the blue tiles.  She flopped onto the stool opposite of him determined not be deterred.  She'd eat her ice cream wherever the hell she damned pleased.

They ate in stony silence; every once in awhile, one or the other would venture a glare towards the other.

Finally, Logan finished and got up.  Placing his dishes into the dishwater, he demanded: "Six thirty in the gym.  Don't be late."  Then he marched out of the room, unfazed by the daggers her eyes hurled into the back of his head. 

End Chapter Six


	7. Training 101

**Some names have been abbreviated.**

**Snoob**:  See why I never put Remy and Marie together in my stories?  I like the guy – I really do – but he is an annoying womanizer. 

**Chaos**:  Oh, the training session will be fun to write!

**Blix**:  I knew that!  AHH!  Stupid me!  I have it spelled correctly in all my other stories so why did I use a 'K' this time?  I'm a moron.

**Hip-Ban**:  Oh there'll be plenty of M/L.  Lol.  I can't help it!  I'm addicted!

**Jupiter**:  Thank you very much.  I'm updating as fast as I can!  I keep telling myself: "must keep typing, must keep typing…"

**Sam**:  Why thank you very much.  I'm glad you approve of the way I handled things.

**Beanie**:  Lol.  Your review cracked me up.  I'm a total L/R shipper, too (obviously).  It's like an addiction.

**WantDreams**:  Poor Marie is right.  Not only is she getting up at 6:30 but she has to be bossed around by Wolverine.  Lol.  That's enough to make me feel sorry for anyone.

**Anime**:  I've never heard of the expression "mad cool", but I must say that I like it.

**Anonymous**:  You're always so supportive.  Thank you!

**Nikki**:  Of course I'll do more!  (As long as I keep getting support)

**Pine**:  I love tension.  I thrive off it.  I NEED IT!  Anyway, the training session will be fun to write.

**Lu**:  It's ok.  Please read what I wrote to Blix up top.  Also, I was hesitant about putting in 'le' because I knew it meant "the".  However, in French, they put "the" all over the place and I get confused.  Lol.

Chapter Seven

Training 101

The shrill of her alarm clock sent Marie bolting up, her arm flinging her satin pillow off the bed.  With an angry curse, she slammed her fist against the "off" button.  It was too damn early.  Groaning in frustration, she flung her blankets aside and firmly planted her bare feet onto the Oriental rug.

She was dressed and out the door within minutes, pulling her auburn hair back into a tight ponytail.  She shuffled into the kitchen and made herself a cup of French Vanilla coffee.  Sipping away at the caffeine-induced drug, she wandered down into the gym, praying the caffeine would kick in soon and boost her energy.

"You're late," Wolverine barked from behind her.

Marie jumped, dropping her nearly empty mug.  It crashed to the floor, ceramic blue pieces spewing across the wooden gym floor joined by light-brown drops that had once been her coffee.  Rogue clenched her teeth and whirled around.  "By five minutes," she snapped.

"Late is late, Rouge.  Your slacking could cause someone their life."  Wolverine moved around her, stiffly pointing towards the track that encircled the entire large room.  "Warm up with a mile sprint while I clean up your mess."

Rogue's mouth dropped open.  "You call that a warm-up?  Warm-ups are stretches and jumping jacks and…"

"Look, kid, this ain't high school.  If you want to join the team then you need to be in top physical condition.  _Now run_."

Rogue gave a harsh sigh as she stomped over to the track to begin her run.  "How many times around is a mile?"

"Twelve," Wolverine yelled back as he bent down to pick up the broken pieces of the mug.

Rogue rolled her eyes and took off.

--

Sweat trickled down her back and pooled between her breasts.  Her hair clung to her neck like seaweed.  Her leg muscles screaming, she collapsed onto the floor, heaving with exertion.  A shadow fell over her shaking body and she glared up at her instructor.  "That was no mile," she huffed.

"You're right.  It was two miles.  Now get up.  You'll never catch your breath that way."

Marie battled the urge to flop her head onto the floor and instead staggered to her quivering feet.  This was stupid of her.  She should have gotten up earlier and had a healthy, nutritious breakfast.  She was running on a single cup of coffee and felt ready to keel over.  

"Do I need to dig a six feet pit and roll your corpse into it," Wolverine bellowed.  He grabbed her arms and raised them over her head.  "Quit slouching: you're only constricting the airway."

Rogue rolled her sea-green eyes.  His fingers clasped around her wrists reminded her that she wasn't dead or having a horrid nightmare.  This was it.  This was her life: trapped in an endless cycle of one dreadful decision after another.  If only she had run away when she first found out about her curse.  But no, she had stayed in that crummy town, went to the community college, and then began working as a secretary at the police station.  And then Cody had showed up as a cop, forcing her to be a consultant: going to those gruesome crime scenes and stealing the memories of the dead.  That's when she'd met Bobby.

The pressure around her wrists released and Wolverine tilted his head towards the mats.  "Time to get your ass kicked," he sneered.

Rogue, grumbling, followed him towards the blue mats.  She stood in front of him, waiting for her orders, which – no doubt – would be screamed at her.  Yet, to her surprise, the big bad wolf gently took her hand, placing it lightly against his hard chest just below the nook of the ribs.

"Here," he said hoarsely, "is a point of attack.  If you can break some ribs then you'll have the upper hand."  He removed her hand, replacing it tenderly around his neck.  "If you're fighting a male, aim for the Adam's apple.  A swift, hard blow will leave him temporarily distorted and possibly breathless.  It would be best to use the side of your hand."

"I know all this," Marie murmured.  "I've taken self-defense classes.  What I need to learn is martial arts."

"You have to have the basics before you can move on," Logan reasoned, releasing her hand.  "I have to test you on this and if I feel you can do it, then we'll start the real training."  

He brought both his hands around her neck, squeezing softly.  "Usually someone will grab your throat like this, shaking you back and forth.  Let him pull you in," Logan delicately pulled her against him, breathing heavily.  "Then when he starts to push you away, take your left foot and plant it as far back as you can."  He used his leg to nudge hers back.

Marie found her self twisted, her side to his chest.  She peered up at him, her heart beating rapidly.  "Now what," she asked.

"Swing your right arm up and over my arms.  Imagine that you're trying to touch your left hip.  Bend and twist at the same time."

Marie followed his instructions, and Logan dropped his arms.  He nodded.  "This normally will be enough to break his hold.  Yet, continue by making a fist."  He clasped his fingers around hers, balling her hand into a fist.  "Bend your elbow and – since your body is still twisted – whirl around and slam the bent elbow into the face or throat of your attacker.  The best spots to aim for are the eyes, the nose, or the nook just below the neck."  He followed her arm through, holding onto her and showing her the moves.

Marie shook her head.  "But you're so much taller than me."

"That's not a problem.  If your attacker is too tall then straighten your elbow a little and make the strike with your fist.  Now, your goal is to tear his head off.  Carry through with the strike, allowing your body to twist around.  You will once again be set up for a powerful strike."

Marie nodded.  "Ok."

Logan stepped back.  "Now try it.  Use all your force."  He rushed forward and grabbed her neck.

Marie followed through, twisting around and smashing her elbow into his nose.  The sickening sound of bones cracking jolted her and she flung her hand over her mouth.  "Oh my God.  I'm so sorry.  I didn't mean to…"

Wolverine pounced on her, sending her crashing to the ground.  Straddling her, he grabbed her arms and pinned them over her head.  "Never, _ever_, stop fighting," he roared.  "You're dead now!  Dead!  Do you understand me?  You quit and now the attacker as you pinned…he'd probably tear you to shreds!"

Marie, trembling in fear and shock, swallowed.  Her eyes were wide and filled with terror.  The man glowering down at her wasn't Logan.  The furious man hovering over her could easily become the heartless murderer Stryker had portrayed him as.  This was the true face of Wolverine.

"Please," she whispered.  "You're hurting me."

"You can't feel pain!  You're dead!"

Marie shivered at the ice in his amberish-hazel eyes.  "But I'm not dead.  It was practice."  She bit her lower lip.  "Please, stop.  You're hurting me."

Wolverine's face relaxed and he climbed off of her.  He faced away from her as she crawled shakily to her feet.  "We'll continue this afternoon.  Three o'clock."  He marched away, never looking back.

Marie watched him storm away, rubbing at her – soon to be bruised – wrists and not feeling the slightest hint of bitterness even though she had every right to be angry.  In truth, she felt sympathy for Logan.  But that didn't mean that Wolverine was off the hook. 

End Chapter Seven

AHHH!!  So what do you all think?


	8. The Softer Side of Cruel

**Pine**:  drums fingers on the desk Mmmm…yep!  That's the plan.  Let's see if they cooperate.

**Snoob**:  And he will!

**Blix**:  I don't mind if you're a nit-pick.  It forces me to write better!  Anyway, it was supposed to be her fist hitting the metal, but Rogue doesn't know that the adamantium is in his nose, too.  She was _assuming_ it were bones cracking.  Sorry I wasn't clear on that.

**Beanie**:  EEK!  Don't poke me!  I'm updating, I'm updating!

**Vyktorya**:  I wrote you an e-mail response to this.  Yet, I wouldn't want you thinking that I forgot about you.  big smile

**Chaos**:  Lol.  I'll see what I can do.  

**Hip-Ban**:  My fingers are getting cramped by all the typing.  Lol.

**Cassandra**:  Hey, it's ok.  I won't hold it against you.  Lol.

**WantDreams**:  I did do it on purpose.  big smile  I'm glad you caught on.  For that, I will share with you my chocolate pudding.

**Anonymous**:  Are you speaking for the whole group?  Lol.  Thanks so much for the motivation!

**Jo**:  And you got to keep in mind that in the movie, he met Marie when she was a teenager.  In my story, they don't meet until she's 25.  Who knows what he's been through in that missing time? Yet, I'm glad to see that you understand why I didn't make his character all charming and sweet: because in reality, he really is a hard ass.  But you gotta love him!

**NOTE**:  Keira belongs to me.

Chapter Eight

The Softer Side of Cruel

Part One

Marie kept to her self, locked away in her room and only coming out for lunch.  She slipped into the cafeteria, cringing at the sight of the hundred or so students scattered across the large room: a large room that didn't look much like a high school cafeteria at all.  In fact, it looked as if they had converted a ballroom – tapestries, large bay windows, elegant paintings, live plants, and all – into a makeshift cafeteria.

Marie scrutinized an enchanting painting of Stonehenge hung adorningly by the large mahogany doors.  It was gracefully created with blue, gray, and violet watercolors.  It left her feeling mystified and soothed.

A loud clatter forced her to tear her gaze away, landing on a young child off to the right.  The girl – who could've been no more than seven – stared at the wooden floor in horror.  She had dropped her tray, her chicken noodle soup, Caesar salad, and Mickey Mouse shaped ice cream bar strewn across the floor.  A couple of her older classmates snickered, no one coming to her aid.

Marie sighed, making her way toward the girl, but halted in her tracks when Logan came out of nowhere.  He knelt down, scooping up the child's lunch and discarding it in the trashcan.  He patted the girl's back, murmuring for her to go and get another lunch.  Then he turned towards the lunch tables, snarling.  "It was nice that you were all so helpful," he barked snidely.

A few of the students closest to him coward away, keeping their eyes glued to their plates in the hopes that Wolverine wouldn't focus on them.  The X-man wouldn't be deterred.  He growled at them anyway, his fists clenching at his sides.  "If you can't learn to help each other then you shouldn't be here."

He took a moment to the scan the room with his hardened hazel eyes.  "I'm writing you all up."

No one dared to groan, knowing it would only mean an extra ten minutes on the track next gym class.

Wolverine grunted, stiffly marching away, heading straight for her.  He hadn't noticed her yet, and Marie considered fleeing, but then his eyes flashed sharply to the left, landing dead center on her face.  Marie swallowed hard, fidgeting under his harsh gaze like a child about to be scolded.  He stepped within a foot of her, staring at her, his expression slightly softening.  "Damn these brats," he grumbled.

Marie cracked a grin.  "Oh, but Mister Tough Guy has a soft spot for the littlest ones.  I take it you got stuck with lunch patrol?"

He grunted again.  He hated being lunch monitor.  Yet, he had to admit that when he was on duty, no one messed around.

Marie watched as the little girl from before came back towards the tables, her hands clutched tightly around her tray in fear of dropping it again.  "Who is she," Marie asked softly.

Logan followed her gaze, staring at the child with…what?  Sympathy?  _No_, Marie thought.  _Wolverine doesn't have a sympathetic bone in his body_.

"Keira.  Six years old."  Logan shook his head sorrowfully, his eyes melting into a fatherly protective gaze as he continued to watch the little girl eat her ice cream.

"What," Marie probed.  "Is there something wrong with her?"

Logan sighed, tearing his eyes away to look at the woman before him.  "She's cursed more than most."

Marie raised her eyebrow, urging him to go on.

"She sees death," he whispered.  He shook himself out of it, blocking her with his steel wall.  "Look, I've got to keep an eye on these kids.  I'll see you at three o'clock."

"Well, actually, I was going to get something to eat.  What's for lunch?"

Logan appeared conflicted about something for a moment before jerking his head towards the doors.  "The teachers have their own lounge.  It's just down the hall."  Then he was gone, stalking towards a group of boys who were displaying their powers, attempting to impress a girl.

Marie walked out, her mind whirling at what she had witnessed.  Wolverine apparently wasn't completely heartless.  It was obvious Keira had touched a place in him that he normally kept well guarded.  It made Marie curious.  What was so special about the girl who saw death?

Part Two

Has three o'clock was winding closer, Marie raced towards the gym, hell-bent on not being late.  She didn't want to be on the end of Wolverine's wrath, especially after their conversation in the cafeteria.  He seemed to be finally warming up to the idea of her being around.  She didn't want to screw that up.

She burst through the doors, coming to a screeching stop when her eyes fell on the scene before her.  On the mats, Logan was bare-chested and sweaty, but that wasn't what caught her attention.  It was the person on the mat with him: Keira.  The young child was peering up at the gruff man with admiration and open awe as she listened intently to his instructions.

Logan then lowered the punching bag that was between them, telling the little girl to try it.  "Now do what I did," he encouraged, his deep voice gentle.  He watched her a moment and then – without looking at Marie – said more sternly:  "Warm up.  Two miles."

Marie began her laps, repeatedly glancing towards the mats where Logan continued to coach the child.  By the time she had run around the track twelve times, Keira was heading out the door.  Marie came up beside Logan, panting.  "Is she yours," she huffed.

Logan snapped his head towards her in defiance.  "Hell no.  I wouldn't know what to do with a kid.  I just…she's the youngest kid here and doesn't fit in with the older gym classes.  So, I teach her one-on-one."

"How long as she been here?"

"Two years.  Now enough dicking around.  We've got a lot to do."  Logan turned around and raised the punching bag back to its original position.

Marie yanked off her long-sleeved shirt to reveal a black tank-top underneath.  She threw it aside, kicking off her shoes before stepping onto the mat.

Logan looked her way.  "You ever use one before," he inquired, indicating the punching bag.

Marie shrugged.  "Once or twice."

Logan nodded, his eyes falling on her wrists.  He suddenly looked uncomfortable and slightly regretful.  Marie glanced down and saw what he saw: ugly bruises shaped like handprints encircled her wrists.  Things were starting to get real uneasy and Marie felt the air seeping out of the room.

"Um," Logan tapped the punching bag.  "Let's see what you can do.  We'll go from there."

Marie nodded, bringing her hands up into tight fists, wincing as the movement brought sharp pains to her wrists.  She tried covering it up with a cough, but she suddenly felt Logan's presence beside her.  She refused to look at him, her angry from earlier resurfacing.

Logan tenderly touched the bruise on her left wrist and she twitched.  "I'm sorry," he murmured.  He dropped his hand, shifting his weight.  "Why don't we do this in a couple days?"

"No," Marie protested.  "I'm all ready here.  We might as well…"

"Logan," a timid voice intervened.

Both adults whipped around.  Logan seemed relieved by the intrusion.  "What is it, Keira?"

The little girl peeked up from under her eyelashes, glancing nervously at Marie before settling her gray eyes on Logan.  "I've seen her death," she murmured.

Logan slowly walked towards her, kneeling down to be level with the child.  "Whose death," he asked warmly.

Keira glanced again at Marie.  "Hers."

End Chapter Eight

Dun, dun, dun…gasp Oh no!


	9. Dark Visions

**Names are abbreviated**

**Chaos**:  Oh but of course!

**Queen**:  Yeah, in Chapter Two she explained to Logan that she's learned to control it, but every now and then it slips on without her wanting it to.

**Veronica**:  _shakes head sadly_ What needs to be done needs to be done.

**WantDreams**:  Would you like some of my hot cocoa?  Lol.  Anyway, it will definitely be "something more scary or heart clenching."

**Tara**:  Thank you so much.

**Brynn**:  Lol.  I'm glad.  A lot of people hate cliffhangers!

**Blix**:  I'm thrilled that you're thrilled.  It must mean I'm doing something right!  

**Anonymous**:  I'm excited over writing their reactions.  This will be so much fun for me!

**Snoob**:  Hey, I had to find a why to heat this story up somehow.  I'm glad you approve.

**Beanie**:  Thank you so much for the boost in confidence.

**Jo**:  Lol.  I had to throw that in there.  He is just one sexy man.

**Blue**:  That is so sweet of you.  You know, without support from reviewers like you then I wouldn't bother posting my stories.  Thank you so much.

Chapter Nine

Dark Visions

Part One

Marie sucked in the air around her.  She glanced frantically at Logan, her eyes betraying her, screaming out her fear and alarm like a loud bullhorn in the fog.  "Wha-what does that mean," she asked, her voice wavering.  She peered down at the small child.  How could someone so innocent frighten her so much?

Logan rubbed Keira's arms soothingly.  "Keira, tell me what you saw."

"A man is holding a gun.  Screaming.  Lots of blood."  She paused, her glazed eyes staring straight into Logan's hazel orbs.  "You," she whispered.  "I see you."

"What am I doing, Keira," Logan pressed gently, digging for clues.

Keira's eyes welled up.  "Crying."

"I'm crying?"

She nodded her head, looking scared and lost.  "You're on your knees and crying."

"Why am I crying," Logan questioned, curious and perplexed.  _Why am I there?  Why would I be crying?  I've never cried._

"I don't know."

Marie tentatively kneeled beside Logan, gazing warmly at the little, tortured girl.  "Keira," she spoke softly.  "Where am I?"  She hated doing this.  She hated probing the small child for the gory details.  Marie had seen her own unfair share of death.  She'd absorbed countless of murder victims at countless crime scenes.  It was horrific and soul shattering.  Yet, she wanted to know – _needed_ to know – what Keira saw.

The little girl's lip trembled and she reminded Marie of an unwanted orphan she'd seen on TV the night before.  

Keira gulped.  "There's so much blood.  So many tears."

"Keira, was I shot?  Was I shot by the man with the gun?"

Keira buried her head against Logan's shoulder, sobbing.  "The mirror's broken," she cried.  "A ripped picture.  Knives.  Broken wood."

Marie, confused, looked up into Logan's face.  He shook his head and mouthed: "Later."

--

When Logan stepped out of Keira's room, Marie pounced on him.  "What the hell was that, Logan?  What did all of that mean?  Is this going to happen soon or years from now?"

Logan grabbed her arm, dragging her away from the door: out of Keira's earshot.  "Sometimes her visions aren't clear.   She sees them more in snapshots than anything else.  And I don't know when it's going to happen, but she usually sees these…images within a few weeks of someone's death."

"A few weeks," she gasped loudly.  She felt her knees giving out.  "Do they always come true?"

Logan led her to a chair and forced her down onto it.  "As far as I know: yes."

"Logan," her tone was quiet and small.  "I may hate my life, but I…I don't want to die.  Not now."  She gazed up at him, begging for some sort of sign that things would be ok.  Those things Keira saw could be changed.

"We need to tell the professor."

Part Two

Marie wandered numbly into her room, kicking off her shoes and collapsing onto her bed.  Xavier had been worried, promising he would search Keira's mind for more clues, but he didn't want to disturb the child while she was resting.  So, he'd told Marie to rest herself and that he would send for her when he had more information.

Marie was exhausted; slipping into an edgy sleep almost immediately after her head hit the pillow.

Explosive pain shot through her body like a million needles digging into her nerves.  She screamed as he shoved himself into her again and again like a scorching, sharp iron.  Tears blurred her vision.  The bruises on her face were already swollen and inflamed.

_"Come on, bitch," he sneered, shoving himself in and out of her with harsh thrusts.  "You know you like it.  You like it real hard and rough."  He gave a few more sharp pushes into her, his orgasm rippling through his body._

_She threw up, the vomit sliding down the side of her face and pooling onto her hair._

_He laughed.  "Stupid bitch."  He yanked up his jeans and then reached for the knife he had discarded while raping her.  "Now it's time for a sculpting lesson."_

_He stabbed the knife into her abdomen, piercing through her flesh as if she were nothing more than a piece of meat._

_She shrieked in agony as he carved into her.  She knew she was slowly being murdered and the faces of her children danced in her line of vision._

_'My babies', she thought. ' My poor, precious babies.'_

"…poor, precious babies," Marie moaned before jerking awake, her eyes wild and glazed.

A pair of strong arms clasped her and she flailed against them.

"My babies," she screeched.  "Where are my babies?"

"Calm down, Marie," Logan barked.  "You don't have any babies.  It was just a dream."

Marie swallowed hard, her own senses returning to her.  She collapsed against Logan's arms, tears streaming down her face as she wailed in agony.  She could still feel the torment and torture of the man raping her and killing her; the thought of never seeing her children again shredding her to pieces.

_No_, she told herself.  _Not my children.  They're not mine.  I wasn't the one raped or murdered_.

Logan hesitantly smoothed back her hair, concerned.  "It's all right, Marie.  It was just a nightmare."

"No," she cried.  "It was Sandy Moore's nightmare.  Her rape and murder.  They aren't my kids.  They're hers."

"What are you talking about?"

"She was a victim.  Her mutilated body was found hanging from her stair's railing.  He made me touch her.  He made me touch all of them."

"Who?"

"Cody."  Marie lifted up her head, her face streaked with salty tears.  "He's a detective.  He made me go to crime scenes and touch the dead.  I would absorb their memories in order to find their killers."

_Good God_, Logan thought, regretting the way he had treated her when he'd first brought her to the mansion.  "I didn't know," he said.

She wiped away the moisture from her face and tried to collect herself.  "What are you doing in here anyway?"

"I…I," he looked around as though seeking an excuse from the furniture.

"Were you…checking on me," Marie asked.

He folded his arms stiffly across his chest and cleared his throat, but said nothing.

Marie slid off the bed and gazed up at Logan in astonishment.  "Why?  I thought you hated me."

He grunted.

"Don't you grunt at me, mister," she scolded lightly.

A silence fell between them that wasn't comfortable or uncomfortable.  It just was.

Marie's stomach growled and she smiled sheepishly up at him.  "I guess I'm hungry," she murmured.  "Do you know what's for dinner?"

"Pot roast."

Marie made a face of disgust.  "Yuck.  I hate pot roast. May as well eat soupy cardboard sprinkled with rubber."

Logan chuckled.  "You're a picky eater, aren't you?"

"No.  I just don't like eating shit."

Marie could see a thought bouncing around in his head and waited patiently until he finally said, "There's a pizza place not too far from here.  I was planning on ordering some anyway."

"Are you offering to share your pizza with me," she inquired with raised eyebrows.

He shrugged.  "Depends.  Do you like extra cheese, pepperoni, and sausage?"

"Oh yeah," she groaned, just imagining the pizza was making her mouth water.

Logan grinned.  "Then I'll share it.  Under one condition."

"What?"  _Anything_, she thought.  _I'd do anything for a slice of pizza right now_.

"Don't ever mention this to anyone.  I've got a reputation to keep."

Marie laughed.  "Deal."

End Chapter Nine

So what are your thoughts?


	10. Reminiscing

**Ff** and **Cassandra**:  Thank you!

**Hip-Ban**:  Lol.  I haven't decided yet.

**Snoob**:  I know what you mean.  I love those tragic tales.  Have you ever read _Oedipus the King_ by Sophocles?

**Chaos**:  It is creepy.  But I love creepy.  Lol.

**Beanie**:  Well, I guess you're just going to have to wait and see, my friend.

**Blix**:  Yep, now the prologue has entered the scene.  Yet, was that the future…or what the future _could_ hold?  Don't know, yet.

**Pine**:  Yeah, I don't know about you but I just don't go around sharing my pizza with just anyone.  Lol.  We're talking a serious commitment here.  Lol.

**WantDreams**:  If it's not a cliffhanger but you still want to know what happens then, I must be doing something right!

**Blue**:  Oh I think he's one of the two sexiest men alive.  _sighs_

**Anime**:  Thank you very much.  And I'm glad I haven't lost you along the way.  

**L**:  If you love chemistry then you'll love this chapter!

Chapter Ten

Reminiscing

Marie, ignoring proper lady etiquette, devoured her slice, the grease burning her mouth and dribbling down her chin.  She moaned in pleasure, closing her eyes as she savored the taste of melted cheese, spicy meat, garlic tomato sauce, and crisp dough.  _If Heaven's anything like this_, she thought, _then sign me up_.

She felt a napkin stroking her face and her eyes flew open, harshly being reminded that she wasn't alone.  And that death may not be too far off.

Logan wrinkled the napkin up in his large hand and tossed it aside.  "I never pictured you as a messy eater."

She raised her eyebrows.  "And you've pictured me eating before?"

He chuckled.  "Well…no, I guess not."

They ate in silence, huddled over the pizza box, which was resting between them on Logan's bed.  Marie took a glance around, noting that his room was much like hers in design and size.  In fact, it was pretty identical to hers: no photographs, personal items, or nick-knacks decorated the room.  It was as barren as she felt.  The only noticeable difference between her room and his was the pair of crumpled jeans tossed precariously near the large, cedar dresser.  Surely if he weren't careful, in the dead of night he would trip on them on his way to the bathroom.

Logan cleared his throat, drawing her attention back to him.  His dog tags had slipped out from underneath his white T-shirt and now dangled out in the open.  Marie tentatively reached across the small space between them, massaging the dull metal between her slender fingers.  Engraved on the tags were a serial number and a name: Wolverine.  Logan flinched, his hand instinctively coming up to grasp the only link to his past, entrapping her hand, which still held the dog tags.

Her hand now imprisoned under his, her olive eyes snapped up to stare into his coffee-lime orbs.  She was drowning in the sea of his intense emotions.  For a man who guarded his heart with a steel fortress, he was at the disadvantage for his eyes were the depths to his soul.  

"I'm sorry," she murmured throatily.

Logan yanked the metal pieces away from her and shoved them back under the protection of his shirt.  He eyed her somewhat coldly, but with a mixture of regret and understanding.  He reached across the bed and pulled open his nightstand's drawer, retrieving a pack of cigars and a lighter.  He lit up, sucking on the poison and wishing it affected him the way it did others.

Marie glanced down at the remainder of the pizza, uncertain what to do.

Logan gave her a strange look before leaning back against the headboard.  "So, how'd you meet Iceman anyway?"

It was Marie's turn to recoil.  She glanced up at Logan.  "A case.  They loaned me out to the FBI at times, especially with a case dealing with serial killings.  I was sent to New York where a string of murders had taken place.  Obviously the government didn't know what the victims were or otherwise the case would've been pushed under the rug."

"What do you mean?"

"They were mutants: all of them."  Marie fell back against the headboard, the pizza between them utterly forgotten.  "When I touched them, I found that their killer was a mutant, too.  A large, hairy man with sharp fangs and unbelievable strength."

"Sabertooth," Logan growled.

"I don't know.  He never gave his name to any of his victims.  And I can only know what they saw and heard."

"So Iceman was there because?"

Marie pulled her knees tight against her chest, resting the side of her face on them.  "He just kind of showed up.  I was walking late one night to my motel room when I was attacked."

"By who?"

"The killer.  Then Bobby came out of nowhere and placed my attacker into a thick cocoon of ice.  He told me to lock myself into my room; that he'd handle it."  Marie laughed lightly at the memory of her knight-in-shining-armor.  "I didn't know what to do, so I did as I was told.  A few minutes later, there was a knock at my door.  It was Bobby.  We hit it off, but I never thought I would see him again.  But…surprise!  He showed up in Mississippi the day after I returned home.  And I fell in love."

Logan nodded more to himself than her.  "He talked about you in passing," he admitted.  "I don't think that Bobby wanted to mix his X-man life with you.  But he let things slip every now and then." 

"What kind of things?"

"Little things.  I don't remember anything specific."

"Oh," Marie sounded disappointed.  Then she perked up with bitter anger.  "So when will I get to go on missions?"

Scrambling to catch up with the sudden change in conversation, Logan stuttered a moment before shrugging.  "I have no idea.  Awhile.  Why?"

"I want to be the one to kill Stryker," she answered vehemently.

"Get in line," Logan grumbled, taking another long drag of his cigar.

Marie paused, her eyes shifting to his hands.  "He did that to you didn't he?"

Logan peered down at his knuckles.  "Yeah," he muttered.

"That's what you meant about the experiments.  I could tell you were one, but I didn't know…" Marie tenderly caressed the hand closest to her, not surprised when Logan jerked it away.  She gazed up at him, gingerly reaching for his hand again.  "I'm not going to hurt you," she whispered, teasing.

He allowed her to touch him this time, clenching his teeth and focusing on his cigar as she stroked his knuckles.

"Do they hurt," she asked softly.

"Every damn time," he murmured.

"I'm sorry," her voice was nearly inaudible and maybe if Logan didn't have his sensitive hearing he would've missed it all together.

He gently pulled his hand away.  "Not your fault, kid."

Marie gazed up at him and in that moment she understood.  He didn't call her 'kid' because he was reducing her to a child…he did it because he didn't want to get to close…because he feared that little light inside of him she'd seen when she'd touched him the night he came to get her…

He feared falling in love.

End Chapter Ten

Oo, oo, oo…what do you think?  Are things beginning to heat up or what?


	11. Learning More

**Blix**:  Everyone deserves a break before the real trouble begins.  Lol.

**Snoob**:  Thanks! I almost didn't leave it in.

**Beanie**:  Lol.  Yeah, I've heard it – from my own friends!  Lol.  Anyway, I don't think I deserve the "O.B. fangirl squeal" – that's like…WHOA!  Look out!  Here comes the stampede!  Lol.

**Chaos**:  I know: my mouth is watering just thinking about it!

**Wapps**:  Why I'm glad you think this has a "great plot" because a lot of FF.net stories don't, but…I'm addicted to them anyway.  Put Logan and Rogue in a romance story and I can't help but read it.  Lol.

**Hip-Ban**:  I'll try and see what I can do about both of your requests, but…no promises, my friend.

**Sabre**:  Thanks for the review!

**Pine**:  But of course!  Logan can't deny his growing attraction and – later – feelings for Marie.  I just won't have it!  Not in my story.  He MUST do as I say and I demand that he falls in love.  Lol.

**Erica/Blue**:  The other man: William Snow (Lord John Roxton from _The Lost World_ TV series).  He's an Australian like Hugh Jackman.  _drools_ Them Australians sure are hot!  Anyway, nope, Jean didn't die.  She becomes the Phoenix.

**L**:  Ooo, Hugh Jackman…god, he's one sexy man.  Lol.

Chapter Eleven

Learning More

Rogue continued to strengthen her body and power over the course of the next three days.  She slowly immersed herself with the others, even considered taking up a teaching job as a Criminal Justice/Law instructor.  Yet, she still grew uncomfortable around people after a couple hours so, the professor felt it best that she interact a little more before placing her in a classroom.

Marie was sitting out on the stone patio, sipping a strawberry iced tea as she glanced over the Blackbird's electrical manual.  Storm had handed it to her with a smile, saying that she'd heard that Cyclops was going to be giving her a pop quiz.  The weather goddess had taken pity on Marie, knowing that Scott's pop quizzes were brutal.  So, she'd slipped her the book and Marie had spent the last two hours studying.

She smelled the whiff of smoke before she felt his presence.  She grinned, flipping the page over.  "I would warn you of lung cancer, but I suppose that's not a problem for you."

He grunted, coming to stand beside her, squinting out over the lavish garden.

Marie, still skimming the viciously mind-numbing material, asked: "Was there something you wanted, Logan?"

He sucked in his poison, his slanted eyes flicking down towards her.  "Yeah…a smoke."  He jerked his head towards the mansion.  "Can't enjoy the simple pleasures of life in there."

Marie hummed a noise of understanding.  Flipping the page, she stifled a large yawn behind her glass.  "Why do you stay?"

Logan peered down at her: his amber-hazel eyes always yielding that underlining of distrust and caution.  "They're all right," he replied.  "For geeks, anyway."

Marie giggled a non-girly giggle and set the manual aside, giving the mysterious man her full attention.  "What's the real reason?"

Logan sniffed, taking a drag of his cigar before dropping it to the ground and stubbing it out with the toe of his boot.  "It's either them or the Brotherhood.  And I for one don't really give a shit either way.  But I've got respect for the professor.  He's a good man."

"I was in the Brotherhood briefly," Marie admitted, avoiding Logan's penetrating and suspicious eyes.  "I mean, _real_ briefly.  I met this woman, Raven Darkholme, when I was a teenager.  She tried talking me into the whole 'turn the humans into mutants' spiel.  I bought it for a while, but then I found out what her leader, Eric, really wanted me for."

Logan nodded.  "Use your power to operate his machine."

Marie's green eyes flashed up.  "You know about that?"

Logan shrugged, sitting down on the opposite end of the bench.  "I wasn't a X-man at the time, but I've heard the others discuss it once or twice.  They managed to kick Magneto's ass into jail before he could use his machine."

Marie sat back, nibbling on her lower lip.  "I never met him.  I always figured that sense Raven never came looking for me, that they didn't need me.  I guess she didn't bother because without Eric, there was no way to transfer power."

"Ah, a pleasure to see you, _ma chere_," a cheery voice called out.

Marie rolled her eyes and looked over at the French doors as Remy strolled out, his ever-present trench coat flapping behind him.  "Hello, Remy," she said as though talking to a child.

"_Ma chere_," the Cajun grabbed his chest above his heart.  "You wound Gambit with you not caring.  Do you not know that Gambit loves you?  Gambit will not be able to handle your rejections much longer."

Marie laughed, her voice sweet and beautiful as it filtered through the air.  "I'm sorry, Remy, but I just don't love you.  Now who are you going out with tonight?"

"Gambit go out with no one but his _chere_," he said, taking a bow and extending his hand.

Marie rolled her eyes and waved him off.  "Go, or you'll be late.  Whoever she is I doubt she'll appreciate waiting."

"All _les femmes _wait for Gambit.  All but you, _ma chere_."

"Go," Marie ordered lightheartedly, pointing towards the stone steps.  "Beat it before I have Logan beat you."

"Gambit can take on the wolf," Remy boasted

Logan glared at him.  "Watch it, swamp rat."

"Hey, hey," Marie interjected.  "Play nice, boys."  She gave Gambit a scolding look.  "Go, Remy.  I promise to watch a movie with you tonight if you're not too late."

"Deal," Gambit exclaimed triumphantly, thrilled that he'd won this round.  It had become a game between Marie and himself: how many times could he annoy her to the point of caving in and spending time with him.

Marie watched Gambit dash away, amazed that a man like him existed.  Once he was fully out of sight, she turned back to Logan, displeased to see that he was lighting another cigar.  "So, how's Keira?"

"How the hell would I know?  I don't keep taps on the kid."

Marie snorted.  "Yeah, sure.  You follow her around like one of the president's top-secret bodyguards.  And don't you give me that look.  Face it, Keira's your weak spot.  And she adores you – God knows why," she teased.

Logan sniffed, scratched his cheek, and sucked on his cigar.  "Damn kids," he grumbled.  He glanced her way with his hardened eyes.  "She's a pest; always wanting to follow me around, but…all the other little brats ignore her and I…she…" he shook his head.

"You feel sorry for her," Marie spoke softly.  "She's a sad and lonely girl who sees death.  It's good that she has someone to look up to: someone willing to be her friend."

His cigar clutched between his pointer and middle finger, Logan waved his hand at her.  "I ain't her damn friend."

"That's too bad.  A little girl like her really needs a friend."

Logan opened his mouth and then closed it.  _Damn this woman_, he thought.  _Too hell with her_.  He got up and marched away, shouting over his shoulder: "You got a lesson in one hour." 

End Chapter Eleven

Raven "Mystique" Darkholme is the right name, right?  And, no, I haven't forgotten about Marie's approaching death.


	12. Permission

**Cassandra**:  Isn't wolverineandrogue.com a member site?

**Snoob**:  Calm before the storm?  You're absolutely right!

**Blue**:  Heeheehee…sorry, that's it.

**Pine**:  I don't know…she may have to die.

**Chaos**:  Lol.  I bet she would, but I've got a job to do.  Lol.

**Blix**:  Gotta love him even though he's infuriating.

**Saxonny**:  Wow.  What a review!  I don't even know where to start in my reply.  I guess the best place to start would be:  THANK YOU!  You're review was greatly appreciated.  And it surprised me beyond belief.

**Wapps**:  I like Scott, but he can be a real stiff stick.

**Hip-Ban**:  What can I say?  I'm a foul for the cruel.

**Beanie**:  Lol.  He sure does!  And he'll get it eventually.

**TheWolf**:  Thanks!

**SJS**:  Thanks for the honest, constructive criticism.  I admit, too, that they aren't flowing as well as I would like, but I don't know how to fix it.  Thanks for enjoying it anyway.

**Angrybeaver**:  Are you related to Gambit?  Lol.  I'm only joking.  It's just that you referred to yourself in third-person like Gambit does.  Thanks for the review! 

**Anonymous**:  Thanks!  I'm trying. 

**Everyone**:  Sorry about the delay.  I've been ill.  Forgive me!

Chapter Twelve

Permission

Part One

"Why the hell aren't I going," Rogue snapped as she burst into the professor's office.  She was livid, fury igniting her wrath.  She glowered at the older man, her green eyes sharp and bright with anger.  "This is bullshit, Charles, and you know it!  I have every right to go on this damn mission!"

"Settle down, Rogue.  I never said you couldn't go."  The patient man arched his eyebrows at the fiery young woman.  "Now is there something else?"

Rogue, feeling sheepish, shook her head, biting her lip.  "No," she whispered.  "Sorry for my outburst.  It is just…Logan said I wasn't allowed to…" she clenched her teeth.  "That bastard!  He made it sound as though _you_were ordering me to stay, but really _he_was!  Ahrg!  I could slash out his lying tongue!"

Xavier chuckled, wheeling himself out from behind his desk.  "Don't be so haste to hate him, Rogue.  I believe his motives were pure."

"Pure my ass!  That man hasn't wanted me here from the beginning!"  _And to think I've poured my heart out to him_.

Xavier nodded in somber understanding.  "He's allowed you in as well."  At the woman's shocked expression, the professor smiled thinly.  "I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to pry into your mind.  You were just thinking too loudly."

Rogue accepted his apology.  "So, do I have a leather suit waiting for me?"

"Before you go running off, Rogue, there are a few things we must discuss."

Marie lowered herself onto one of the crimson sofas.  "Let me guess: hold someone's hand, don't talk to strangers…"

"Rogue, please.  This is serious.  Keira's seen your death.  That's not something to be taken lightly.  If I had my way, you wouldn't be going on this mission.  But," he sighed, shaking his head dejectedly.  "I know I couldn't stop you from going.  So, please, just be careful.  Don't do anything stupid."

"Trust me: nothing's going to happen to me.  I have a score to settle first."

"Don't leave the sight of the others."

"I promise."  Marie looked away, knowing that she may just have to break her vow.

End Chapter Twelve

I know it's short, but I just wanted to get something posted so that you all knew I was still alive.  Lol.  I promise that the next chapter will be MUCH longer.


	13. Separated

**Chaos**:  Yay!  I am!  Lol.

**Snoob**:  Thanks.  And there is plenty more to come.

**Blix**:  Lol.  Why won't she listen to you?!  The stupid girl!

**Blue**:  Thanks.  I'm producing chapters as fast as I can!  Thanks for being patient.

**Wapps**:  I'm glad for that because I know that was too short of a chapter even for my standards.

**Hip-Ban**:  Yeah, I can die _after_ I finish this story, right?  Lol.

**Jupiter**:  Thanks.  This chapter – as promised – will be much longer.

**Dutch**:  1-12 in one sitting?  Wow.  You deserve another chapter!  So…here it is!

**Cassandra**:  I checked it out as suggested.  It seems pretty cool.  Maybe I will join.  Have you?

**Anonymous**:  Thanks.  You'll know a lot more soon enough.

**Veronica**:  Yeah, but I'm hoping since I didn't get flamed for _The Clash of Two Worlds _that I won't get flamed with this one either.  What can I say?  Death makes for a more powerful story.  Eek!

**Jo**:  Australians have all the luck.  Hugh Jackman, Will Snow, Sam Neill (though born in New Zealand I believe)…Anyway, thank you so much for the compliments.  It really does mean a lot to me.

**NOTE**:  Cat, Shadow, and Stone belong to me.

Chapter Thirteen

Separated

She raced up the metal steps of the Blackbird, pulling her auburn hair up into a tight ponytail as she scrambled around the X-men.  Logan, already strapped into his seat, glared up at her disapprovingly as she settled into the seat across the aisle from him.  Rogue arched her eyebrows, daring him teasingly to make a deal of it.  He grunted, opting to lean back into his chair and stare straight ahead, glowering at the back of Gambit's seat.  Moments later, they were rising up into the night sky, silent as a tomb.

Rogue inhaled deeply, attempting to soothe her anxious nerves.  This was her first mission and she'd never fought another mutant in her life.  She glanced over at the solemn man beside her, studying his hardened profile.  He felt her gaze and, slightly turning his head, flicked his hazel orbs towards her.  "Will he be there," Rogue whispered.

"I doubt it, kid," he responded softly.  He sighed and looked away, murmuring nearly inaudibly: "I hope not."

Rogue peered at him quizzically, leaning further over the arm of her seat.  "What," she asked quietly, stunned.  "Why not?"

She was beginning to think he wasn't going to answer when he finally looked over at her, his eyes gazing almost heart achingly at her.  "You'll get yourself killed.  You're not ready for this mission."

"What," she gasped, shaking her head.  "We don't know that.  Besides," she perked up, "you're probably counting down the days to when I'll be permanently out of your hair."

"Not true, kid."

Rogue snorted.  "Yeah, ok.  Since I've arrived you've been hot and cold with me the entire time.  One minute, you seem to genuinely not mind my presence.  And then the next?  You're a cruel, spiteful bastard."

Jean, in the seat in front of Rogue, released a laugh and glanced back behind her shoulder.  "Don't take it personally, Rogue.  He's only like that with people he likes."

"Well then it's a good thing I'm not on his hit list."

Gambit guffawed.  "Like Gambit?"

Rogue frowned.  "Poor Remy: rejected by women _and_ men."

"Hey," Gambit defended.  "Gambit no mean it that way, _chere_.  And Gambit has plenty of female friends."

"Barbies don't count, swamp rat," Logan grumbled.

"Children," Scott scolded.  "Could we please?"  Under his breath, he added: "They're worse than Jubilee."

"Watch it, One-Eye," Logan barked.

A while later, they were at a desolate dam in the snowy region of Canada.  Unloading, Rogue looked around the crumbling compound, confused.  "This place looks abandoned."

"Never trust your eyes," Logan growled, swiftly extracting his claws as he sniffed the cool air.  "Scooter, keep your eye open," he said casually as he walked away from the group.

"Logan," Scott admonished as he and the others followed the Wolverine.

Logan led them passed a couple of rusted doors, taking a reverent moment to rub his gloved hand across the aging plaque.  He then snorted angrily and marched on.  Rogue paused while walking passed the sign in order to read the engraved words: ALKALI LAKE INDUSTRIAL COMPLEX.  

Rogue, baffled, looked amongst the others.  She'd heard that they were going to be facing Stryker's men, but she was at a loss as to why.  And she had no idea why they were at an apparently abandoned dam.  She hadn't asked too many questions earlier, too eager to meet up with her former employer.  Yet, now, she was afraid of looking inattentive, so she remained quiet.

"How do you expect us to get in," Scott hissed.

"Ringing the doorbell," Logan deadpanned.

Jean rolled her eyes.  

"They've got to know we're here by now," Storm stated, scanning the area for any sense of trouble.

"So what are they waiting for," Gambit voiced the question that was on all their minds.

Rogue looked from one X-man to another, her eyes settling on Logan's back as he hovered away from the group, sniffing the air.  "What are we waiting for?"

Something from the corner of her eye caught her attention and Rogue whirled around to see a shadow fall across the ground.  She darted her eyes around, but was unable to see anyone.  "Hey, guys, we're not alone."

"I know," Logan answered.  "I can smell them.  I just can't…" He roared as something unseen slammed into him, embracing him in a thin layer of darkness.  Logan struck back, slamming his claws into whatever was attacking him.

The mutant cried out, eventually forming into something solid.

"Shadow," Storm exclaimed.

Shadow vanished into the scenery, blending in with the many shadows caused from the looming complex.

In a flash, someone pounced on Rogue, sending the unexpected woman slamming into the frigid ground.  Her assailant was agile with sharp fangs and claws.  Rogue struggled to keep the razors from slashing her throat.

Scott blasted Cat off of Rogue with his laser eyes, sending the woman sailing back and crashing into an opposite wall.

Rogue scrambled to her feet and gulped.  She looked frantically to her rescuer.  "Thanks."

Scott raced to her side.  "Thank me later.  First, let's try and keep you alive."

"I've got no problem with that," Rogue replied.

An explosion ignited near her and Rogue whipped around to see Gambit chucking his playing cards at a mutant with a hard, gray outer skin.  He looked sort of like a rock, and apparently as durable as one for the charged cards was barely throwing him off.

Soldiers began to pour into the yard, weapons eager to fire.

The X-men were thrown into an all-out battle and along the way Rogue got separated, pushed deeper into the enclosed area.

_Damn it_, she thought.  _Why couldn't I have a more useful mutation_?

She found herself backed against a wall and she quickly looked around in search of an escape.  Her eyes fell on a door and – without a second thought – she rushed inside.

End Chapter Thirteen

See?  I promised it would be longer.


	14. Confrontation With the Devil

**Pine**:  I'm glad you like my AU Logan.  Then again, he's a heartthrob no matter how he acts.  Lol.

**Wapps**:  Thanks!

**Blix**:  I don't know.  You may be right about that magnet.  Lol.

**Jo**:  Yeah, she's not _that_ bad.  I personally find her kind of annoying, but she's not the bitch a lot of people make her out to be.

**: ) **:  Sorry it took awhile.  Thanks for the review!

**Carmilla**:  Glad to hear it!  Lol.  Thanks for the review.

**Gimpy**:  Lol.  Yes, my goal in life is to torture readers.  _big smile_  Anyway, thank you _so much_ for the review and compliments.  I really, truly appreciate it.

**Cassandra**:  I looked it over and it looked a little complicated.  Is it easy once you do it the first time?

**Hip-Ban**:  Depends.  I may just be an evil, twisted bitch…or a hopeless romantic.  Mmm…which could it be?

**Sax**:  Lol.  Gosh, I don't know how to respond.  You're review just brought a huge smile to my face.  I can't tell you how much I appreciated all the kind things you'd said.  I really enjoy writing, but I'm never satisfied with what I write.  So it's always a boost when someone seems genuinely ok with the crap I produce.  And, yes, OCs can be wonderfully fun!   Oh, and one more thing, when are you going to update _Finding Normal_?  Let's go!  Hop to it!  (Lol.)

**Veronica**:  Well, according to the Epilogue, yes.  Yet, maybe fate can be stopped.  We'll see. _winks_ Sorry, that's all I can divulge.

**Anonymous**:  I'm trying!  Lol.  Thanks for the review! 

**NOTE TO EVERYONE**:  Sorry it took me so long.

Chapter Fourteen

Confrontation With the Devil

_Oh shit_, Rogue thought with a roll of her eyes.  _Where the hell am I going_?  She ran down the concrete corridor, her boots echoing in the tunnel.  Should she turn back?  Should she find another way out?  She gritted her teeth and pressed on.  Going back meant instant capture.  Going forward meant…God, who knew?  At least she stood a better chance in the compound.  Or did she?

She came to a halt and gaped at a pair of gigantic metal bay doors.  "Now what," she asked, exasperated.  She hesitated, unsure of what to do.  She was about to turn around when suddenly the doors clanged open, the metal scraping against the hinges as they were slid across the rail.

Rogue scurried off towards the wall and pressed herself against it, holding her breath.  Her ears perked up, straining to hear the slightest noise.  She waited a full minute before inching away from the wall, ducking her head inside.  Doors didn't just open themselves, but there was no one in sight.  Were they in a control room somewhere?  Had they seen her coming the moment she'd stepped into the building?

Curious, she went on, scanning the vast room cautiously.  _Nothing good can come of this_, she warned herself.  _Turn around and get the hell out of here_.

"Rogue," a familiar, accented voice called out casually.

Rogue tensed and whirled towards the sound.  "Stryker," she seethed.

He clucked his tongue as though to scold her.  "I'm very disappointed in you, Rogue."  He strolled closer, shaking his head and waving the barrel of his pistol at her.  "You have no idea how foolish you have been."

"Foolish enough to join you, but wise enough to figure out what a bastard you really are."  Rogue glared venomously at him.  "You killed Bobby.  And you were using me to get to the rest of the X-men."

"A casualty of war," Stryker replied.  "And my interests lie with one particular X-man."

"Logan," Rogue stated the obvious.  "Why the hell do you want him so badly?  He was a disappointment, too.  He failed your vision of him.  You did that fucking procedure on him, but then he rejected the Mutant X project.  He wants you dead.  So why are you so desperate to have him?"

"Don't you get it, Rogue?  Haven't you figured it out?  Wolverine _is_ Mutant X.  We weren't just colleagues working on the project together.  He was the test subject.  And he volunteered for it."

"No," Rogue denied.  "You're lying!  Logan would never…"

"But he did, Rogue.  He did."  Stryker glanced behind him at the sound of approaching footsteps.  A dozen soldiers appeared behind him and he smiled at Rogue.  "He's not who you think, Rogue.  Wolverine is just that: a heartless, cold-blooded military animal.  He volunteered for the procedure because he wanted to be Mutant X.  He wanted the added ability so he could fulfill his missions.  And his missions?  To kill."

Rogue shook her head, angry.  "I don't believe you!  You've lied to me from the beginning."

"I've misled you.  I haven't lied."  Stryker nodded to his men.

The soldiers swarmed around her and Rogue whirled around, sprinting down the corridor where she had come.  They gave chase, firing at her.  Rogue screamed as a bullet sliced into her flesh and she cried out as she crumpled to the dirty floor, blood spilling over the concrete.  Two of the soldiers scooped her up and carried her away.  Her last thoughts were of Logan.  And then everything went black.

End Chapter Fourteen


	15. Prediction of Truth

**Chaos**:  Lol.  That was a rather entertaining review.  And you're right, I meant Weapon X.  What the hell was I thinking?  Any, we'll see what awaits her soon enough!  

**Blix**:  No, no, no, it's ok to be nick-picky.  That way I can correct mistakes.  And you're right I did mean Weapon X.

**Cassandra**:  Yes.  I'm trying to kill you.  Is it working?  Lol.  Anyway, I checked out the "L&MDH" site.  I'm confused.  How do you get feedback?  They didn't have a review section.  And I read a couple stories and wished to give the author feedback, but wasn't sure how.

**Rhiannon**:  It's definitely an AU (alternate universe).  That's why in the first chapter Marie was working for the police and then – later – Stryker.  Sorry you got confused.

**Ellexis**:  Thanks for the review!  I hope you continue to enjoy it.

**Veronica**:  I can't really answer your questions without ruining the story, but I'm thrilled to know that you're interested enough to ask.  Thanks for the compliments!

**Benji**:  I can't tell you my plans for Rogue because it would ruin the story for everyone else.  Sorry.  Yet, I must warn you, if you don't like the X-men dying then, never read _The Clash of Two Worlds_.  A number of the main characters die.

**Hip-Ban**:  A hopeless romantic who has her occasional moments of slipping into bitch mode.  Lol.  That's the only way I can explain _The Clash of Two Worlds_ and what might possibly happen in this story.

**Pine**:  I am working my way up to being the queen of cliffhangers.  It's my ultimate goal in life.  Lol.

**Wapps**:  Will she be or won't she be?  That is the question.  Lol.  Thanks for the review!

**Sax**:  _laughs insanely_

**TKPiper**:  Ye ask and ye shall receive (for now.  Lol.).  Thanks for the review!

****NOTE TO EVERYONE****:  I made a terrible error in the previous chapter.  I meant 'Weapon X' _NOT_ 'Mutant X'.  Sorry for the confusion.

Chapter Fifteen

Prediction of Truth

Water trickled down the sides of the concrete walls of the musty smelling tunnel as Logan sprinted down the corridor.  He'd seen Rogue disappear into the building and had fought his way after her, taking detours in order to fend off various attackers.  Once inside, though, he had been met with silence.  He'd followed her scent, stepping lightly and keeping his ears perked.  And then he'd heard it: a gunshot that sent him racing.

Where the hell could she be?  He skidded around a corner and his heart skipped a beat.  Cautiously, trapped in a mesmerizing haze, he crossed the threshold of a medical bay, sweat breaking out over his brow at the sight of a tiled tub of water.  It felt familiar.  It felt haunted.

He ran his fingers over well-known claw marks on one of the stone pillars, a panged expression grazing over his tragic eyes.  Years ago, he'd learned of Stryker and the experiment.  Yet, he'd never seen the hellish chamber where he'd gone from man to animal.  It made it more real than the cruel metal under his skin.

Logan's eyes narrowed into dangerous slits, his mouth forming a snarl.  He turned his head like a wolf searching for its prey.  His large hands tightened into fists, he marched further into the room, bursting through the swinging doors beyond the freezer drawers.  He'd found Stryker.  And he'd kill him.  Slowly.  Painfully.

As swiftly and gracefully as a wild cat, Logan stalked the hallways, hunting.  He knew people were nearby.  He could smell the faint reminders of them in the air.  And there was a more pungent scent: one that was bitter and rich…blood.  Logan froze.  Whose blood?  One of theirs?  Or…"Rogue," he breathed fearfully.  _I swear if they've hurt her_…

He sprinted frantically from room to room, darting around corners and leaping through doorways.  He was tempted to just shout her name, but restrained the tingling in his throat.  Getting ambushed wouldn't help Rogue.

He came to a jolting halt.  He sniffed the stale air, relieved to have finally found them.  Logan felt his anger welling inside him.  He unsheathed his claws and burst into the room, growling with his eyes laced with cold hatred.

"Ahh, Logan, so nice of you to join us," Stryker commented casually, superiorly.

Logan scanned the room.  If he weren't so worried about Rogue, he'd have already sliced into the evil man standing a few yards away.  "Where's the girl," Logan hissed harshly.

"Who?  Oh, you mean Rogue?  She's been dealt with."

Logan lunged, shoving the shorter man against the wall, digging the three razors on his left hand into Stryker's abdomen.  "Don't make me ask you twice."

"Wolverine, Wolverine, you don't honestly think I was going to let her live did you?"

"You better have," Logan growled, inches from his face.

"Come on, Wolverine.  There's nothing left for you with the X-men.  You and I could…"

"_Where is she_," Logan raged, slamming Stryker's head into the wall.

"Dead," Stryker screamed.  "She's dead, Wolverine!  Just like the dozens of people you killed!"

Logan roared, tearing his claws into Stryker's flesh.  "_Damn you to hell_," he shrieked, carving downward with a twist.  "You get one more chance.  Where is she!"

Stryker gurgled on the blood pooling from his mouth.  "Dead," he snickered.  "Dead."

End Chapter Fifteen

Or is she?  Mwahaha…Chapter 16: _Prophecy_, coming (hopefully) soon followed by three or four more after that.  So hold on, folks, there's only a few more chapters left.


	16. Prophecy

**Cassandra**:  I signed up, check it out, and thought it too complex.  I think I'll stick with FF.net.  Yet, thank you so much for sharing the info with me!

**Blue**:  Hey, hey, hey, don't you dare bow down to me.  I'm not worth it.  Lol.  Glad I could be of service during your snow day.  And I appreciate you putting this under favorites in order to keep an eye on it.  I was real conflicted about doing this story at all.  You've just given me a big boost!

**Chaos**:  Lol.  Don't they?  It's the way every single movie and book goes!

**Snoob**:  I'm typing every chance I get!  _phew_  I'm glad this is almost over.

**Hip-Ban**:  Maybe you are…maybe you aren't…Didn't really expect me to tell you, did you?  Lol.

**Blix**:  Ding-dong the General's dead!  The General's dead!  The General's dead!  Ding-dong the wicked General's dead!  And that's all I've got to say.  Lol.

**Veronica**:  In my stories, Logan _always_ has feelings for Rogue.  Lol.  Now, whether he acts on them directly or not is another matter entirely.  _insert smilie_

**Wapps**:  You know you're not the first one to call me evil.  Lol.  Oh well.  I guess it comes with being the Queen of Cliffhangers.  Lol.  I just love it!

**TKP**:  I can't help it!  Leaving cliffhangers has become my trademark.  I can't stop doing it!  It's an addiction!

**Pine**:  I always love protective/angry Logan.  _sigh_

**Beanie**:  Hahaha…I loved your review, especially the last few lines.  They made me chuckle.  Anyway, don't worry, my friend, the broken mirror will be explained in this chapter.

-*-*-*-*-

Chapter Sixteen

Prophecy

PART ONE

The rain cascaded down the smooth glass leaving trails of angels' tears.  The sky rumbled with anger and ignited in a fury of blinding lightening bolts.  A howl pierced through the fog and Xavier squeezed his eyes shut.  He rolled away from his desk and turned to peer out the window.  A forlorn, murky figure stood in the pouring rain, roaring in his agony.

_Logan_, his mind whispered out to him.  _It wasn't your fault, Logan_.

The dark silhouette whipped around and glared up toward the professor through the sheets of rain.  _Like hell it wasn't!  I even told her on the jet that she was going to get herself killed.  I knew she was going to die!  We all did, damn it_!

Xavier bowed his head, moisture seeping from his weary eyes.  _It was her time to die, Logan.  If not at the Lake then, it would have happened somewhere else_.  Charles sighed, shaking his head sadly.  _It's why Keira saw her death.  Rogue was destined to die_.

_That's bullshit, Charles!  Bullshit!  She wasn't destined die!  She had only begun to live_!  

_We aren't expected to understand our destiny, Logan.  We're only expected to accept it.  Her death is a tragic loss, but carrying around the guilt won't change the events of the past_.

Logan growled and marched away.   

PART TWO

Hours later – after visiting her grave – Logan staggered into his room, water dripping from his clothes and pooling onto the hardwood floor as he stomped from one side to the other.  To Hell with Keira's vision!  Marie wasn't supposed to be dead.  He should be able to find her on the back patio, curled up on a chair and studying for her next exam, joking with Swamp Rat and rolling her eyes at Logan's cigar.

Wolverine roared, his claws slicing through his knuckles and shining like glimmering knives in the moonlight that seeped in through the large windows.  "Fuck," he screamed, smashing his fists into the vanity.  The mirror shattered, hundreds of sharp shards flying; a few embedding into his hands.

"Why did you wonder off," he shouted at her memory.  "You were supposed to stay with the group!"

He jabbed his claws into the eighteenth century painting and yanked his arms down, tearing the irreplaceable work of art.

His rage unleashed, he picked up the nightstand and tossed it across the room.  It crashed into the dresser, cracking both pieces of furniture.  Unsatisfied, he ripped his mattress to shreds, crying out when one of the springs carved into his forearm.  Blood pooled down his arm and trickled off his fingers onto the floor.  Logan watched, mesmerized, until finally collapsing onto his knees, wrecked with sobs.

They had spent little time together and were usually bickering or training.  Yet, in the less than two weeks she was there, Logan had grown to care about her.  They'd sat in his room, bonding over a box of pizza.  No one had ever bothered to try and reach him, but Marie had done so with a few simple words and a touch.

Now it was too late.  It was too late to find a way to take away her pain.  It was too late to turn that strained relationship of understanding into anything more.  It was too late to allow him self to fall in love with her.

If only he'd listened to his gut instinct and kept her from getting on that jet.

-*-*-*-*-

The following morning, he couldn't bring himself to join the team on another mission.  Instead, he hopped the earliest flight to Mississippi.  He had another score to settle. 

End Chapter Sixteen


	17. Revenge Unable

**Snoob**:  Maybe she is…maybe she isn't…_evil laugh_

**Blue**:  Eek!  Ok, ok, it wasn't the end!  Please don't beat me!  Here's more!

**Tara**:  I wonder: how many people can I kill?  Mmm…

**Benji**:  Well, I lied.  I've decided that _this_ will be the final chapter because I'm fed up with this story.  So…well…_sheepish grin_

**Pine**:  I guess I am starting a trend.  Mmm.

**Blix**:  At least it's not as sad as _The Clash of Two Worlds_, right?

**Aquarius**:  Ding-ding-ding!  You are correct!  Lol.  Now don't you feel so smart?

**Cassandra**:  I don't mean to make people cry.  It just comes with the territory.

**Dutch**:  Your wondering is over.  Here's the final chapter.  Enjoy!

**TKP**:  I'm a bitch.  What more do you need to know?  Lol.

**Star**:  You're absolutely right.  What was Xavier – _I_ – thinking?

**Veronica**:  He wasn't seeing Jean.  He only flirted with her.  So, it's ok for him to start falling for Rogue.  Anyway, thanks for the compliments.  They mean a lot.

**Wapps**:  Thanks for sitting and waiting patiently.  This took a lot longer to come out than I thought it would.

**Beanie**:  Yes, he is, but… _chuckles sinisterly_

**Hip-Ban**:  _winces_ Oops.  Sorry.  Lol.

**Sapphire**:  Thank you so much.  I really appreciate it, but I know there are many much more talented than I.  Keep looking, you'll find them all throughout FF.net.

**Wanting**:  I love writing cliffhangers!  I am a cruel, heartless bitch.  What more can I say?  Lol.

**Sax**:  I love "berserker Logan", too, especially over Rogue.  _sigh_ I need help.

-*-*-*-*-

**EXPLANATION**:  I'm sorry if I wasn't clear enough in the last chapter, but Logan had gone to the cemetery.  That was where you were supposed to insert the Prologue.  Sorry, again, if there was any confusion.  **ALSO**, I know this is short and has a choppy ending, but I really can't give it more.  I'm sure you've all been there.

Chapter Seventeen

Revenge Unable 

He paced the length of the sidewalk, a cigar clenched between his seething teeth as he passed the building for the third time.  As crazy as Logan was, he wasn't dumb enough to pick a fight with a cop inside a police station.  So he continued his march up and down the cement walkway outside, ignoring the rain that poured down in endless sheets.

Finally the doors swung open and a pair of men in government issued suits strolled out, grumbling about the weather and their forgotten umbrellas.  Logan stubbed out his cigar, eyeing the detectives suspiciously.  He wasn't exactly sure what Cody even looked like.

One of them felt Logan's penetrating eyes burning into his skull and turned curiously, cautiously.  "Can we help you, buddy," he called out, his hand dangerously close to his holster.

Logan sniffed and walked stiffly over.  "I'm looking for Cody."

The other man glanced at the first man and then narrowed his eyes at Logan.  "Wha'business ya gat wi'him," he asked, his thick accent slurring his words together.

Logan tightened his jaw.  "Personal."

The first detective stepped between them.  "He a friend of yours, Mister…er…"

Logan flicked his eyes down at him.  "Yeah," he lied.  "A friend.  You know where he is?"

"I'm sorry, buddy, but your friend, Cody, died a few days ago."

"What?  What the hell do you mean he's dead?"  _Damn it, I wanted to fucking tear him apart_!

"His car ran off the road.  He may have survived if it weren't for the explosion.  Apparently a spark ignited in the gas tank during the car's roll down the cliff.  His funeral was yesterday."

_Accident my ass_, Logan's mind roared.  _The bastard was probably working for Stryker_!  Logan stormed away.  _He was killed to protect whatever the hell is going on_.

Logan came to a park and he flopped down onto one of the benches, hanging his head.  Shakily he brought his hands up and covered his face, howling in agony.  "Damn it," he screamed.  _I should've never let her in_.

The cold rain washed over him and he couldn't help but believe that they were the tears of Marie.  Even in death she felt grief.

_God, Marie, what am I going to do now_?

End Chapter Seventeen

END STORY


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